Engineering and Americanisms
by TKcloud9
Summary: Jane and Lizzy were not expecting to rescue an American girl on their way back from Oakham Mount, much less a young woman wearing skintight clothes and rambling about "phones." Samantha Langford was not expecting to graduate with an engineering degree and end up in Regency England. What was she going to do now? No self-insert OC, just a lighthearted AU. D/E, J/B, low-angst.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome all, to the craziness that is this hand-wavey time-displacement fic. If you like Stargate as well as Pride and Prejudice, you will catch several references :) If you don't, that's cool too. :) Fear not, all pairings remain the same. Hope you enjoy!**

-P-

 _The year of our Lord 1808, two years before Netherfield Park is let._

Jane and Elizabeth Bennet left the house and began to walk up the path to Oakham Mount, for even though the wind blew and the air was crisp, the sun was shining and the trees glowed with the changing of the leaves.

The two sisters chatted about this, that, and the other, and while discussing the propriety of climbing apple trees, even when no one was around - "you stand watch, Janey, and I'll climb up" - they heard a faint shout.

"Helloooo?" It was the voice of a young woman, tired and faint. "Is someone there?"

Jane and Lizzy shared an alarmed glance and Lizzy called out, "Hello? Who goes there?"

There was the sound of running feet crashing through dry leaves. A moment later a young woman stumbled into the path, panting slightly. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, putting her hands on her hips as she regained her breath. "I've been wandering for hours looking for civilization and I'd really like to know where I am because last I knew I was in downtown Portland, and I've got no signal on my phone, so yeah." She smiled at them charmingly.

There were many strange things about this encounter, but only two preoccupied the Bennet girls' thoughts. One, the girl was clearly lost, and two, her clothes. "You're wearing trousers," Lizzy finally managed to say.

"Jeans," the girl said, raising an eyebrow. "Everybody's got jeans, especially in the country. Are we in the country?"

"Hertfordshire, England," Jane said absently, studying the tightly fitted blue trousers and black blouse with a picture of a rose on it.

The girl's jaw dropped, and her hands flew to her mouth. Her fingernails were painted bright orange. "England?" she asked weakly. "You're kidding, right? This isn't England. I would have remembered leaving the United States." She gasped. "Was I drugged?" She suddenly whirled around, scanning the trees. "Wait. Am I being punked?"

"Beg-pardon?" Lizzy asked, fascinated by this wild girl.

"I'm on candid camera or something, right?" the girl continued. "You have button cams or something, right?"

"Maybe she hit her head?" Jane murmured to her sister.

"I didn't," the girl said, overhearing. "I checked my head for bumps when I woke up in the forest. Not a scratch on me."

"All right," Jane said calmly, "if you're lost we'll gladly help you."

"Cool. Can I borrow your phone?"

Blank looks greeted the stranger's request.

"You know. Cellphone, mobile, whatever you guys call it." She pulled a black rectangle from her large bag. "This thing?"

The Bennet sisters were amazed to see it light up and the images on its surface change rapidly. "What is that?" Lizzy asked, intrigued. She hadn't thought Americans were so very advanced.

The girl's expression changed to horror and dread, and a sudden realization. "You're not just wearing those dresses for a costume, are you?" she said slowly. She swallowed hard. "All right, this is going to sound strange, but, what year is it?"

"1808," Jane replied promptly. "June the first."

The girl turned white. "See now that's funny, cuz when I woke up this morning the year was September 2016."

"Impossible," Lizzy protested.

"Then how come you've never seen a phone or jeans?" the girl protested. She put her hands over her face. "Oh, my goodness," she groaned. "This is... no electricity, no indoor plumbing, no internet, no trains or cars or planes, no TV, no vaccines... I'm going to die of the Black Plague."

"That was before even our time," Lizzy interrupted, amused despite the situation.

"Oh yeah." The girl shook her head. "I'm going to have to get a job aren't I? How does one even do that? What kind of jobs can a woman get in this century?" She groaned again. "This is so not my area of expertise."

Jane and Lizzy shared a glance, and nodded. "You shall come home with us," Jane declared kindly, "and our papa will know what to do."

The girl gave them a pathetically grateful look, tears in her eyes. "Really? Thank you so much." She followed them down the path. "I'm Sam, by the way. Samantha Langford."

"Jane Bennet, and this is my sister Elizabeth," Jane said.

"Nice to meet you."

They continued down the path a ways, and Lizzy asked, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," Samantha replied. "I just finished my mechanical engineering degree with the dual-credit system at my high school-" She sighed. "But that's useless in this century anyway, isn't it?"

"You have a degree?" Lizzy echoed, astonished. "From a university?"

"A community college, but yeah. In my time, everyone can go to college." Samantha's stomach rumbled and she blushed. "Sorry. I ate lunch two hundred years ago and I'm starved."

Lizzy snickered at her joke, and decided she could quite like this brash American. "As soon as we get you to the house and into proper clothing, we can have breakfast." She frowned. "We will have to create a story to tell mama and the girls. They're going to visit Aunt Phillips today and if we're not careful, your predicament could be known across half the county."

Samantha paled. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"I'm sure that if we explained our reasons for keeping quiet, mama would do so," Jane protested gently.

Samantha shook her head. "Until we know for sure, can we just tell your father, please?"

Both the girls were reminded that she was just Lizzy's age, and even though she appeared quite confident, she was still young.

-P-

Mr. Bennet was highly surprised when his two eldest daughters rushed into his study unannounced, and ushered in ahead of them a young man - woman! - in fitted trousers. "What's all this?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"This is Miss Samantha Langford, papa," Jane said. "She's from the future and she needs our help."

Mr. Bennet's jaw dropped. "I didn't know we were playing pranks today," he finally said. "Where did you manage to find such ridiculous clothes?"

Samantha frowned. "Just cuz you all don't wear jeans doesn't mean they're ridiculous. Fashions changed in the fifties. Pants, or trousers, or whatever, are completely acceptable."

"All right," Mr. Bennet said. "Before this madness goes any farther, prove it to me."

Samantha wordlessly took out her phone, opened a video, and handed it to the astonished Mr. Bennet. His two daughters crowded around him to see it. "This is from my trip to New York last summer," she said.

The three Bennets watched in awe as metal and glass, impossibly tall structures, appeared on screen, one after the other. Throngs of people dressed in brightly-colored clothing swarmed the streets. A shot of Times Square nearly gave Mr. Bennet a seizure from the neon advertisements, and a shot from the window of a plane as it took off made Lizzy gasp. And all of it accompanied by a strange music coming from the phone. The video ended.

Samantha took her phone back. "Believe me now?" she asked.

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat. "Yes, I do. How did you get here, child?"

Samantha sighed. "I have no idea. I was at home in my apartment in Portland Oregon, trying to get a hold of one of my great-aunt's friends. He got all the things from her estate when she died, including the stuff meant for me, and I really wanted some sort of reminder of my great-aunt. She was awesome. Anyway, I was on the phone, trying to get through the governmental red tape, and then I got kind of dizzy, like when you spin around too many times, and then I woke up under a tree. My car, all my stuff, my designs... the only thing I've got is my purse." She sighed again. "And then I was walking for like, three hours or something trying to find a trail, till I heard these two talking."

"Ah. And, do we not have time travel in the future?"

"Not that I know of, sir."

"Incredible," Mr. Bennet said.

"Yeah, sure, in theory," Samantha said, "but never mind the theory of it all. I'm a mechanical engineer. I need a plan. Tell me, what kind of life can I have in this century?"

The Bennets exchanged a glance, and sighed. "I'm afraid that in this time, a woman's options are extremely limited," Mr. Bennet said. "An accomplished, genteel woman with an adequate dowry can marry well, and live in reasonable comfort and felicity. An accomplished, genteel woman with little dowry can enter service as a companion or a governess, work, and possibly marry a respectable tradesman, lawyer, or something of the sort. And then there's shop keeping, working as a servant, marrying a poor man and working as a house wife in near poverty..."

"And I don't suppose any firm will hire a female mechanical engineer?"

"You suppose correctly, Miss Langford."

"And no sane person would hire a crazy American to shepherd their small children," Samantha continued.

"No," Mr. Bennet said, amused. "They probably would not."

"Good, cuz I was a TA at my high school and I hated it. I'm not good with kids older than five." She frowned. "So that leaves entering the workforce and marrying some poor guy who might possibly be able to support me."

"What about marrying a gentleman? Or even a tradesman?" Jane asked, alarmed.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an accomplished genteel woman of any kind. I'm barely eighteen, I don't know how to do anything in this time, and I have exactly twenty bucks in cash that's not valid in this country, and fifty dollars in my checking account on a debit card that doesn't work, for a bank that doesn't exist yet."

"Then we'll teach you," Lizzy suggested, already liking this outspoken young woman. She glanced at her papa. "If we pretended that Miss Langford was our distant cousin from America, come back to England now that her parents have passed on? She could stay with us, and we could 'pay' her to be our companion, and a governess to the younger girls, and during her stay we could teach her all she needs to know. A, cultural exchange, of a sort."

Jane was already nodding.

"Our budget doesn't allow for us to hire another person," Mr. Bennet said, frowning.

Lizzy waved a hand carelessly. "If you would stop letting Kitty and Lydia have all they wanted of pocket money, then we would have enough to cover Miss Langford's personal budget. She wouldn't need much, papa."

"And we could remake a few of mine or Lizzy's dresses, or even Mary's, to fit her, papa," Jane added.

Mr. Bennet nodded slowly, and looked at Samantha. "Are you a sensible young lady?" he asked sternly. "You won't lose your head over boys or fripperies and lace?"

"No sir," Samantha replied instantly. "I have no plans to marry right away and I don't like flirting. And I couldn't care less about clothes or lace, as long as it's comfortable and I can move around in it."

Mr. Bennet smirked. "You and Lizzy will be great friends, I can tell already. Do you play chess?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you may stay," Mr. Bennet said decisively. He glanced at his girls. "Where shall our new guest sleep?"

"I don't want to put anyone out," Samantha started.

"Nonsense," Mr. Bennet said. "You won't be a servant, you'll be Jane and Lizzy's dear cousin from small-town America, which hopefully will explain your oddities."

"Jane and I will share a room, papa," Lizzy said. She glanced at Samantha reassuringly. "We share a room most nights to talk, anyways."

Samantha nodded. "Thank you."

"You can stay there tonight, if you don't mind sleeping amongst all of Jane's things," Lizzy said, giving her sister a teasing glare. "My sister is the dearest of souls, but not the tidiest creature around."

Jane blushed but grinned. "As if you can claim to be tidier," she scoffed good-naturedly.

Samantha smiled at her new friends and asked, "So, just so I can get an idea of what I'm facing, what's all the requirements for an accomplished lady?"

"According to the ton, an accomplished young lady must be proficient in drawing, sewing, dancing, music, and the modern languages, and must be able to hold sensible, intelligent conversation. Well, that's our requirement. Also, being able to sing would be helpful."

"What are the modern languages?" Samantha asked. "Chinese? Arabic? Korean?"

"Uh, no. Italian, French, and German."

"Hm." Samantha got up to pace around the study, frowning to herself. "Well, I know Spanish from high school. And all those languages are connected, so I think I'm okay there. Except German. I have no idea. And I like drawing, though my stuff is more blueprints and invention sketches, but I guess I could expand. And as for everything else... I've never danced anything except the prom shuffle, never picked up a needle in my life except to reattach a button, and I like Bach. Because his compositions are mathematical. And Fall Out Boy. But I don't think that's going to fly in this century." She shrugged to herself and looked at the girls expectantly. "So. Who's going to teach me what?"

There, they had no answer. "I can teach you the basics of the pianoforte," Lizzy finally offered. "I play very ill though, not having the inclination to practice. Mary, at this point, is farther along than I am, though her playing is very stiff. Jane and Kitty can sew and embroider very well, but not one of us draw. I know Greek and Latin, and enough French to read a novel... and we all dance, I suppose."

Samantha's jaw dropped open, and she scowled at them, her expression hurt. "How am I supposed to be a proper young lady if none of you know anything either?" she asked. She shook her head. "I think you'd better just loan me enough money to get to town and I'll figure it out myself."

"You'll do no such thing, young lady," Mr. Bennet said firmly. "Town is no place for an unattached, friendless young woman and if anything happened to you, we would never be able to forgive ourselves for letting you go."

She raised an eyebrow at him defiantly and folded her arms. "So, what do you suggest, sir?"

"I've let this family run along its own path for far too long," Mr. Bennet said slowly. "Part of it was my disappointment in not having a son, and another part sheer laziness. I would not give myself the trouble of engaging masters to teach my daughters, or discipline them when they needed it. But if you, someone new to our century, can see the need to change to give my girls good futures, then I suppose we'll have to make some changes." He looked at Jane and Lizzy. "If the two of you and Miss Langford could come up with some sort of schedule for all six of you to begin learning, I will review it, and break the news to your mother." He waved a hand at the door. "Run along, girls, and I'll meet you at the breakfast table."

Jane and Lizzy shared a glance, chorused, "Thank you papa!" and tugged Samantha out of the room. They hustled upstairs, trying not to alert anyone else of the household, and burst into Jane's room, all three of them giggling breathlessly.

"Here's one of the dresses that don't fit me," Jane said, rummaging through a closet and holding it up to Samantha's shoulders. "It should fit you Miss Langford."

"Call me Sam," she requested.

"Then I'm Jane, and Lizzy."

"All right." Sam's ears turned pink. "Um, undergarments?" she asked.

"What are you wearing?" Lizzy asked, frankly curious.

Sam, in reply, tugged off her T-shirt and jeans, and stood there in a camisole, bra, and pink polkadot boy-shorts.

"That's it?" Lizzy asked, impressed and slightly scandalized.

"That's it," Sam confirmed. "By the way, there's no way I'm wearing a corset, or whatever. It's not happening."

"Well, you don't really need it," Jane said, handing her a clean chemise. "All our dresses are fashioned with an Empire waist, and there's no need to restrict the figure. This goes on first."

Sam took off the camisole and put on the chemise over.

"Since you're wearing that- what do you call it?"

"Bra," Sam supplied. "Or, brassiere."

"You don't need any stays. And then the petticoat goes over that." Jane deftly did up the hooks in the back of the petticoat.

"And then the dress," Lizzy said, doing up the tiny buttons on the back.

They gave her a pair of sheer white stockings, and let her keep her cream colored lace flats. They pinned her hair up into a bun, and pronounced her complete. "Very pretty," Lizzy said, turning Sam towards the mirror. Her light brown eyes and light brown hair went well with the pale green dress, and she looked almost native.

"Nice," Sam said appreciatively. Her stomach demonstrated a whale's mating call. "Is it time for breakfast yet? Please say yes."

Lizzy laughed. "Yes."

"Oh good."

They filed down the stairs and Lizzy touched Sam's arm, stopping her before she entered the breakfast room. "I have to warn you, my mother and three younger sisters are very... exuberant."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

They walked in, and Mrs. Bennet immediately noted the visitor. "Oh, who's this, Jane?" she asked.

"Mama, this is Miss Samantha Langford. She's our cousin from America," Lizzy said easily. After all, after so many years, who knew that they weren't related? "Miss Langford, my mother Mrs. Bennet, our younger sisters Mary, Kitty, and Lydia."

"Our cousin?" Mrs. Bennet echoed, giving a distracted curtsy. Sam echoed the curtsy awkwardly.

"Didn't papa tell you?" Jane asked innocently.

"No! Your father never tells me anything. Oh, dear girl you must be starving. Was the journey hard? You must be exhausted. Everyone sit down, sit down. Mr. Bennet! Where is that man? He can never remember his own breakfast." She ushered Sam into a chair across from Mary and next to Jane and Lizzy. "Tell us all about America. What is it like over there?"

"Are there lots of handsome men?" Lydia asked, and she and Kitty giggled.

Mary rolled her eyes. "I would assume that America, being a young country, is not stable politically," she said.

Sam pressed her lips together, half in amusement and half in bewilderment. "Indeed, it is not," she said, after a second.

Lizzy distracted her family with a question about their Aunt Phillips, and Sam gratefully chowed down on the ham and eggs, sweet rolls and jam, and strong tea while the family chattered and discussed like magpies on a fence pole.

"Did you come all this way by yourself?" Kitty asked abruptly. "Where are your parents?"

Sam's fork froze in mid-air and she stared at Kitty. "My parents," she said, eyes widening. "They, died, in a, uh, carriage accident, two years ago." A blue Ford that swerved into oncoming traffic and crashed into them head-on. "I have been on my own ever since, staying with friends."

They were all staring at her, and Lizzy knew it was the truth. She reached over to squeeze Sam's hand gently. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Sam looked down at her plate. "Anyway. I am determined to start a new life, now."

And like that, the conversation moved on.

-P-


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Also, side note, I don't claim to be a Regency scholar. Take all procedures and etiquettes with a grain of salt :)**

After the interminable breakfast, Lizzy and Jane offered Sam a tour of the gardens. She accepted, and the three of them repaired to a corner of the gardens with a piece of paper and a pencil to draft their schedule. "To begin with," Lizzy started, twirling the pencil, "we will need to start learning French right away. I know a little bit to start us off with, but it takes months to truly learn a language."

"True that," Sam muttered. "French basics, starting tomorrow, at least an hour of practice a day, possibly more."

Lizzy wrote it down. "What if we made, say Thursdays, French-only days?" she asked. "Everything we say, we have to speak in francais."

"Sounds good to me."

Jane nodded. "We'll also have to begin your sewing right away, Sam," she said. "You'll have to have some sort of trousseau by the time you're ready to get married, and most of us have been working on them since we were small."

Sam groaned. "Death by a thousand needle stabs. Fine."

"The evenings will do very well for that," Lizzy said, writing it down.

"And I believe the mornings will be better for practicing the pianoforte," Jane suggested. "There are less callers in the morning and we will have time."

Lizzy nodded. "Very true." She wrote it down. "We'll have to pry Mary away from the keys but it will be worth it, I believe. And as for dancing, we'll all teach you, whenever it comes up." She wrote a brief note. "Now for managing the household, we'll have to talk to mama and Mrs. Hill. They really manage it, as despite mama's nerves, she's an excellent mistress."

Sam nodded. "Sounds good."

"Drawing," Jane reminded them.

"Oh yes. The afternoons, I think," Lizzy said. "Sam, how well do you draw?" She offered her the pencil and paper.

Sam took them hesitantly and began a rough sketch of the house. She noticed both girls were staring at her hands. "It's not very good," she said apologetically, but their gaze was fixed on her fingers. "Or are you worried about the nail polish? It'll come off in a few days. I can pick at it."

"You're drawing with your left hand," Lizzy said flatly.

"So?"

"That's not..."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "If you tell me lefties are the spawn of the underworld I'm going to laugh in your face."

"You're American and eccentric, it will be fine," Jane said calmly, and added, "Your drawing is better than all of ours, I think."

"Thanks."

"Our days will be very full indeed," Lizzy said. "Not only will we have to devote hours to bettering our accomplishments, there are the daily tasks of life besides."

"Very true," Sam said, adjusting the hem of her dress. "Speaking of, who does the laundry?"

"The servants," Jane said. "There is Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, and Sarah, our ladies' maid, and Mr. Hill, who manages the stable and the yard, and then John, the stable boy."

Sam nodded. "Cool. Um, question. Bathroom?"

"You want to bathe? Now?"

Sam turned red. "No, I mean, uh, toilet."

"Ah."

Their visitor from the twenty-first century was not impressed with the outhouse in the backyard, nor the chamber pot option for night-time use that was explained to her.

"As soon as I've got my head on straight I'm building y'all some indoor plumbing," Sam muttered, washing her hands stringently. "There's gonna be a shower, and a toilet, and a bathtub, and maybe some nice exposed copper pipes like in those old houses in Portland, and we're gonna get a water collection system going, you've got nice eaves for collecting water, you know, and..." she trailed off into disjointed mutterings about ditches. "I need another piece of sketch paper," she declared, after waving her hands around to measure the angles of the roof.

Lizzy, bemused, handed over the sketch paper, and took Jane off to cut some flowers for the table. When they came back, Sam was still scratching away, but now on the opposite side of the paper. "There," Sam said. "It's very rough, but I think I got it. I just sketched the ditch going out to the wetland bit over there." She pointed to the swampy fields.

Jane and Lizzy stared, impressed, at the rough sketches. "And this 'shower'?" Lizzy asked. "How is it better than a bath?"

"Well, with the right valve system, you use a fraction of the water, and you can be in and out in like, ten minutes."

"Ten minutes, to wash your whole body?" Lizzy asked skeptically.

"Yep. Including hair."

"Impossible."

Sam grinned. "The wonders of engineering, my dear ladies."

"And these barrels by the side of the house?" Lizzy asked.

"Oh. That's what we'll be using for water, instead of collecting it. Every time it rains, it collects in the barrel, and you can pump it up into the little tank in the bathroom, and the water will flow from there out of either the bathtub faucet, or the shower head. You can use this same principle of the rain barrel and the little water tank to flush the outhouse toilet every time it's used. I'm assuming there's a septic tank under there?"

Lizzy nodded.

"All right, cool. And with the shower water, because it's no longer fit for human use, it can go down this ditch into the fields, finishing the water cycle. The moss and dirt system in the swampy bit will naturally clean out the water, I hope, so it's not too bad. The rain barrel can also be used for watering the garden, and washing, as long as things aren't washed in the barrel itself. We use these a lot in Oregon because it's a really green state. I mean, uh, environmentally conscious."

"We must show these to papa," Lizzy said, taking Sam's elbow and ushering her back into the house. "This is ingenious."

"It's a very simple design," Sam said modestly. "We had to do a project about primitive engineering in class once, and I picked the shower. It was actually invented around this time."

"When?"

"18th of July 1808."

"By who?" Lizzy asked quickly, her eyes widening.

"A guy named Samuel Langford..." Sam said slowly, and then gasped. "You don't think-"

"That you invented the shower and patented it under a man's name to keep the rights?" Jane finished, having caught on to Lizzy's thoughts. "Why not?"

"Isn't that a paradox though?" Sam asked, grabbing at her head. "This is too much timey-wimey-ness. I don't even like Doctor Who."

"Doctor who?" Lizzy echoed.

"Never mind," Sam said, waving a hand.

They knocked on Mr. Bennet's study door, and were admitted. "Have a schedule already, girls?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh that." Lizzy handed it over. "We have something else to ask you, papa."

"Yes?"

Sam handed him the paper. "I think I need to invent and patent the shower by the 18th of next month."

Mr. Bennet studied the designs, recognized instantly how they could improve hygiene and efficiency, and nodded slowly. "These are good innovations. Why strive for a patent, however, Miss Langford?"

She explained to him her history project on showers. "Samuel Langford?" she asked. "From Hertfordshire? That can't be a coincidence."

"All right," Mr. Bennet said. "However, patents are only granted by the queen, Miss Langford. For a patent, you must have, well, see for yourself." He went to a bookshelf, and handed her a book about English law.

She skimmed through the information. "A prototype, designs, a demonstration, and...an actual audience with the queen. Yeah right. Never mind. This is somebody else." She handed it back. "I'd need a lawyer, a representative who's already been presented at court, and access to manufacturing to be able to get this done."

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow. "Happily for you, Miss Langford, I have a brother in law in trade, one in law, and our neighbor, Sir William Lucas, was recently knighted for services to the crown."

Sam's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Very." He handed the sketch back. "I believe you'll need to get to work. As soon as you're done with your designs, we shall send a copy of them express to my brother-in-law Gardiner in London."

She nodded, her mind whirling with opportunities. "So, do we have to pay to register?"

"Yes."

She winced. "I'll take a patent over new clothes or anything else."

Mr. Bennet nodded. "Done."

They shook on it, and Sam went upstairs to Jane's room to work.

Jane and Lizzy shared a glance, and then looked at their father. He met their gazes. "Once these plans are sent to London and things calm down, she's going to have to deal with being displaced in time, away from her family and all the things familiar to her."

"Yes papa," Lizzy said, subdued. "I think she's purposely distracting herself from the issue."

"But once she does focus on it, we must help her grieve and then adjust," Jane said.

Lizzy nodded.

Jane sighed. "Papa, I really think mama and the other girls ought to be told. They won't understand why Sam will be acting so differently, or behaving as if she's mourning. And if we tell them now, we can impress upon them the need for secrecy."

"I agree with Jane," Lizzy said promptly.

Mr. Bennet nodded. "We will tell the others only when Samantha has finished her designs and we've sent them to your uncle Gardiner."

"Yes papa."

"Now go on," he said, shooing them away with a fatherly grumble. "I've had enough interruptions, and I want to read up on patents."

-P-

By that evening, Sam had finished her plans, and she was looking slightly crazed and delirious. "I usually do this on about three cups of coffee," she explained with a snicker. "Doing it without caffeine, and sleep-deprived, I think I've entered a whole new level of tunnel vision."

They suddenly realized she had already been halfway through her day when transported back in time, and she'd spent the entirety of that day working. "Sleep on it, and then review your designs in the morning," Lizzy advised.

Sam nodded tiredly. "Good plan." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, leaving a generous smudge of charcoal. "Hm. Oops?"

Lizzy smiled and gave her a handkerchief. "Here. It's time for bed."

With the help of the handmaid, Sarah, who was a nice young woman, Sam was changed into an old nightgown of Jane's, and tucked into bed. They left her to rest.

Sam stared up at the whitewashed ceiling and wondered idly if there was asbestos in the paint. Probably was. She giggled quietly, and then the laughs turned to tears. She sniffed miserably. Exhausted, overwhelmed, bewildered, she couldn't think of any more synonyms, but however many there were, that was how she felt. The year 1808! She hiccupped, and stifled a sob in the pillow.

At least the Bennets were middle-class gentlefolk, and she had the promise of a patent to sustain her. But her friends, her little rented room in the Alberts' house, her favorite caramel frappuccino's, her portfolio, her college connections, all of it gone. She wondered if anyone was looking for her, and let out another sob. At least her parents were gone, and she didn't have any other close family to worry about her. And now she was here, in this awful, stilted, time where everyone talked with those stupid BBC accents... She giggled again in sleep-deprived hysteria, and cried herself to sleep.

-P-

Sam woke up the next morning with red puffy eyes and an aching but resolved heart. She would make the best of her situation - her patent was already in the bag anyway.

She listened for a moment, and heard a piano tinkling downstairs, and the murmur of voices. What time was it?

"The time is 1808," Sam answered herself with a sigh and a snicker. She decided she didn't care. She was tired and hungry and it was time to get up.

She got up, and subsequently realized there was no way she could get dressed by herself. "Uh..." Would leaving the room in her nightgown cause someone to faint if they saw her? Probably.

"Sam?" There was a light tap on the door, and Jane stuck her head in. "Oh good, you're up. We wanted to let you sleep as long as you could."

"Thank you. What time is it?"

"Eleven. It's not terribly late." Jane efficiently helped her into the three layers of clothes, and led her downstairs to the kitchen. "Mrs. Hill set aside a plate for you. Do you like porridge?"

"Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Hill." Sam dug in gratefully, and finished off her plate of porridge and two cups of tea. "Okay. Where'd I leave my papers?"

-P-

Sam and Lizzy spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon checking Sam's work, and then they gathered Mr. Phillips and Sir Lucas.

Mr. Bennet explained to them that Miss Langford was representing her brother "Samuel" as he was currently recovering from pneumonia because of their journey back to their "homeland." Under her "brother's" tutelage, Miss Langford became quite the expert in shower-baths.

Miss Langford explained the concept, showed them the sketches, and as she gave her presentation she tried to pretend she was in the movie 'Sense and Sensibility'. It worked, mostly, and both Sir Lucas and Mr. Phillips promised to do their best.

Sam curtsied, and left the room with Lizzy. She collapsed against the wall. "How'd I do?" she asked.

"You sounded positively civilized," Lizzy said teasingly. "How did you pick up the mannerisms so quickly?"

"There's a movie called Sense and Sensibility that takes place around this time so I just, pretended I was there."

"You are there," Lizzy chided.

"I know, but that movie was really good."

"What is a movie?"

"It's the moving pictures I showed you on my... phone!" Sam gasped and bolted up the stairs heading for the room. She dug through her purse and grabbed her phone - seven percent battery left. "Oh no. Oh no. Please say I brought it..." She dug through her purse and pulled out a tiny box with a cord hanging from it. "Need sun," Sam said urgently, and rushed outside, a curious Lizzy at her heels. She fell to her knees in front of the stone bench, placed the box and the phone on it, and attached them both. "Charging," she read aloud, nearly weeping with relief.

Lizzy frowned. "What is it doing?" she asked, watching the little lights on the box and the phone change color.

"Um, taking energy from the sun and storing it in a battery so my phone will have power to run," Sam replied.

"Run? It will move?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"No, run, like, do things." She picked it up and opened the camera. "Like take pictures, for example." She snapped a picture of the bemused girl and turned it around to show it to her.

Lizzy gasped. "That's me."

"Yes it is."

"How did you paint a portrait on your phone so quickly?"

"It's a camera. Uhm, it's like, a, well, I can't really explain it but it's not paint."

Lizzy laughed. "Shall we call it magic then?"

"Science," Sam corrected, smiling.

"What else can your phone do?"

Jane joined them at that time, and Sam showed them the glories of a smartphone. They were astonished by its power, and Sam was made to promise she'd use the calculator for doing the household accounts.

"What's that?" Lydia asked, popping up from behind a rosebush. "Is it a toy?"

"Uh, no," Sam said, trying to hide it.

But Lydia was determined and she snatched it from her "cousin." "What is it?" she asked, fascinated. "Did you get it in America? Why haven't you shown it to us? We're your cousins too. Mama look!" She ran off towards the house.

"Oh boy," Sam said, turning pale. The three girls chased after Lydia.

By the time they got inside Lydia was eagerly showing it to Mary, Kitty, and their mother.

Mrs. Bennet was flighty, nervous, and sarcasm passed over her head, but she wasn't stupid. "Where did you get this, Samantha?" She looked at her older daughters. "What's going on?"

At that moment, Mr. Bennet came into the parlor. "Samantha, your plans-" He paused at the tense feeling in the room.

"Mr. Bennet," demanded his wife. "What is going on?"

He sighed and looked at their guest. She nodded. "All right. Everyone sit down."

They all sat, he closed the door, and Sam announced, "I'm from the future."

Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, Mary, and Lydia stared. "What," was Mrs. Bennet's reply.

Kitty coughed.

Lydia giggled.

Mary simply frowned. "How?" she asked.

So Sam explained, and the others gave their parts, and Mr. Bennet explained what the plan was.

"Are you going to be our cousin or our governess?" Kitty asked.

"Cousin," Sam said, with a nod from Mr. Bennet. "But I'm going to need your help, and I'll help you, and we'll all be wonderfully accomplished ladies together."

Mrs. Bennet was not happy about the stranger coming in and making competition for her daughters, but she did agree some changes would be necessary. She asked that they start small though, and prepare Sam for company before anything else. "After all, you may not be asked to exhibit your talents, but you will always be on display with your posture," she said. "And you, Miss Langford, sit like a hunchback. Pull your shoulders back."

Sam pulled her shoulders back, and yelped when Jane plopped a book on her head. "Hey!"

"When you can walk around without dropping the book on your toes, you can take it off your head."

Lydia laughed, and then gasped in indignation as she felt a book being placed on her own head.

"We are all going to improve our posture," Jane said firmly.

They all looked positively studious, with books on their heads and Lizzy reading aloud from the latest essay on modern living.

That was how Charlotte Lucas found them, when she was announced into the parlor.

"Charlotte," Lizzy said, pleased. She placed a bookmark in the essay and closed the book before standing to give Charlotte a hug. "Charlotte, may I introduce our relative Miss Samantha Langford. Sam, Miss Charlotte Lucas, my dearest friend."

"A pleasure to meet you," Sam said, successfully standing up and curtsying with the book still on her head.

Charlotte smiled. "Likewise."

Kitty giggled, and all the ladies shared a laugh before putting away the books and getting down to serious chit-chat. Sam shared a brief version of her story, and Mary pinched Lydia firmly before she could say anything suspicious. Lydia pouted but remained silent.

Charlotte didn't notice anything amiss, and everyone heaved a sigh of relief once she'd gone.

"Very well done," Jane told Sam, giving her a smile. "You will have the social graces of our time in no time at all."

Sam smiled slightly. "Cool. Now just the rest of the country to go."

-P-


	3. Chapter 3

The first week started well.

The three older girls stuck to the proposed schedule of self-improvement, but Mary was only interested in the pianoforte and reading Fordyce's sermons to Sam. The two younger girls, realizing becoming accomplished meant actual hard work, were not interested, and Mrs. Bennet allowed them to run wild. Mr. Bennet only asked their guest, "I thought we were paying you to turn my daughters into proper ladies?"

And then a young man called on Mary. He was Uncle Phillip's senior clerk, and a dull, but respectable, young man. Very, very dull. Mary didn't know what to think of him, but Mrs. Bennet approved whole-heartedly of getting rid of her most dull daughter, and ordered her to pursue him.

Mary, encouraged by Lizzy and Jane's advice, refused to flirt with the clerk. She was only sixteen years old, didn't even know what she wanted in a husband, and she did not want to get married before she even started her life.

Mrs. Bennet was furious with her middle daughter, Lizzy, and even Jane, and she insisted that Sam was the instigator of all this rebellion and free-thinking in the house. She made Mary's life miserable for days, wailing and fluttering about disobedient children. She insisted that Mary had to go to the assembly and secure the clerk's affections.

Sam's temper only made it through three days of this torture, and then when Mrs. Bennet's vocal range hit its upper limits, she hit hers.

"Okay, that's it. Time to earn my keep." Sam put her book down with a thunk.

Lizzy looked up at her alarmed. "What-"

"Just, don't interrupt, please," Sam whispered beseechingly to her and Jane, before squaring her shoulders and her jaw, and turning to the rest of the family. "That's enough!" she thundered in a voice designed to freeze unruly high school students in their tracks. At least working as a teacher's aide was good for something.

The shout worked - everyone froze. Mr. Bennet raised his head to look at Sam curiously, but he said nothing.

"That's enough," Sam repeated, quieter. "Mary's not going to throw herself at this young man unless she wants to, and if she does, she's going to proceed in a polite and subtle manner."

Mary threw her a thankful glance and hid behind her Italian travel diary.

"How dare you interfere-" Mrs. Bennet started, her entire being fluttering in nervous fury.

"I dare because you pay me to interfere," Sam interrupted, giving her a glare. "You're paying me to be a companion to your girls, and for goodness sakes I'm going to do my job." She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak rationally. "Did you know that a person's brain doesn't finish developing until you're twenty-four, at least?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Mrs. Bennet sniffed.

"It has to do with the fact that you're releasing your daughters into a vicious and cutthroat society when they're half that age. Fifteen! They've barely even started having periods yet and you're forcing them to look for lifelong partners!"

Every single person in the room blushed brightly and Mrs. Bennet nearly fainted on the spot. "MISS LANGFORD!" she screeched. "These things are not spoken of in polite society!"

"Why is that, madam?!" Sam challenged. "Because men talk about it in back rooms and women are supposed to remain innocent? There's another word for it that's more apt. Ignorant. You're trying to make these girls commit their minds and their bodies to another human being before they've even finished growing into their curves. Have you taught them yet what happens between a man and a woman when they're married? Have you taught them that it should only happen between a married couple? I bet you all know dozens of girls who were "compromised" because they didn't know what in the world was happening to them." She glared at Mr. and Mrs. Bennet until they looked ashamed. "I thought so." She shook her head. "I hate this time period. No one speaks of things as they really are, and even then only in vague terms. Do these girls know what happens to a woman's body when they get pregnant? Do they know what happens during childbirth? Afterwards? The twenty-four seven commitment to a tiny squalling creature that doesn't allow time for parties, balls, or putting up your hair, and that's on a good day. Do Little Miss Flirts One and Two know that if they marry an officer or the butcher's boy they'll have to cook and clean and fetch and carry, and they'll have a worse life than even a tenant because they won't even have a farm to eat off of? Have you told them that a dashing man who flirts with anything in a skirt will most likely never be faithful to his wife? That if he's a soldier and gets wounded in battle, they'll have to take care of him, too? That there will be no more ballgowns or new bonnets or feathers in their hair? Have you told them that part of the glorious lifestyle?"

The girls' eyes were as wide as saucers, and Mr. Bennet had his lips pressed together tightly. Mrs. Bennet was absolutely still. "I just want my girls to marry well," she said, in a quavering voice that spoke of oncoming tears.

Samantha took a deep breath and sighed. "I know, Mrs. Bennet. I know you mean well. But look at it this way. What sensible, respectable, young man that you approve for Jane or Lizzy would want two flirts, a socially awkward mute, and a fluttering ball of nerves in their house every single day if something happened to Mr. Bennet?" She held up a hand. "They wouldn't, is the answer. They'd move to the other side of the country and send you money over post. And what respectable man would marry a child? Unless he'd compromised her? And that only because of her aforementioned ignorance?" She raised an eyebrow. "Tell me."

Mrs. Bennet had no reply to that, she just huffed indignantly.

"I don't say this to be mean, but what are other people, your precious society, going to say if they ever see your family? What you take for high spirits in Lydia is rudeness, impropriety, and just plain bratty childishness. She's thirteen for goodness sake! Kitty is almost as bad, following her baby sister around like a sheep and giggling all the time. Mary is a calm, rational girl but she's not socially developed and she needs more time to develop her accomplishments before she can even think about entertaining suitors. Lizzy and Jane are full grown but they haven't had any experience of the world. No museums, no parks, no other parts of the world, no exposure to larger society. And then there's me. Goodness knows I need to work on everything. But one thing I refuse to be, is ignorant of what I ought to be. You want your girls to turn out fine ladies? Act like it."

"Well," Mr. Bennet said dryly, "that was quite a speech."

"And you, sir," Sam said, turning to glare at him. "You're no better. You ignore three of your own children because you don't want to put the effort into parenting them. You're the head of the household, for crying out loud, and girls ought to learn what a true gentleman is from their father. So far, their list of attributes is 'uncaring, lazy, procrastinator, an excellent reader, and insulting of his wife.' Do you want them to marry men like that?"

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow at her. "Not at all."

"Good." She folded her arms defiantly. "I've had my say, and I'm done. Send me away if you want."

"Oh, heavens no," Mr. Bennet replied mildly. "You're going to stay and turn these girls into sensible, accomplished ladies who are no longer ignorant, remember?"

Sam nodded. "All right, but Mrs. Bennet can't countermand me if she's going to be making a spectacle of herself and her children."

Mrs. Bennet huffed angrily. "I do not make a spectacle-"

"Yes, you do," Mr. Bennet interrupted. "Samantha is right. And if an untrained American child from the future can see our folly, then our neighbors and eligible husbands have been able to see it even more obviously. From this point forward, Mrs. Bennet, you are going to conduct yourself with deportment and calmness, and I will endeavor to teach my girls how to use their minds."

"And their estate books," Sam prodded.

"And manage their ledgers," Mr. Bennet added grudgingly.

"Thank you," Sam said gratefully. She knelt at Mrs. Bennet's side. "Forgive me, madam, for insulting you? I only wanted to make a point, and I know you love your daughters very much."

Mrs. Bennet patted her hand. "I forgive you dear. I know you love them like sisters and want everything to turn out right." She let out a little giggle. "You've quite shocked my nerves away."

Sam smiled and leaned up to kiss Mrs. Bennet's cheek. "Thank you."

The two younger girls began to whisper furiously. Neither of them looked happy.

"What's first on our reformation schedule, Miss Wollstonecraft?" Lizzy asked, eager to see what would happen next in the family.

Sam grinned in recognition of the famous feminist and sat back down next to Jane and Lizzy. She'd been thinking about this for days, since she'd gotten there, and even made a list of notes on her phone. She pulled it out, and consulted the screen. "First, Kitty's not going to be considered 'out' yet, for at least another two years. She's too young, and she needs to find opinions and skills of her own. Mary, you don't have to be 'out' for another year if you don't want to be."

"But we've already had her coming-out party," Mrs. Bennet said in a light wail, before promptly returning her attention to her sewing.

Sam smiled slightly. "Then she can choose if she wants to attend each gathering or not. Does that sound reasonable Mary? And in the meantime, you can practice the art of conversation and pianoforte in smaller groups, or with us. Yeah?"

Mary nodded vehemently. "I like that plan very much."

"I'm glad."

"What about me?" Kitty whined. "I want to be out in society too."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to be out, or does Lydia want you to be out?"

Kitty opened her mouth, closed it again, coughed, and then frowned. "I don't know."

"Of course you want to be out, silly!" Lydia cried, throwing her arms in the air. "Balls, and parties, and dancing!"

"And what are you going to talk about to the young men, Kitty?" Sam asked kindly.

Kitty stared at her older sisters for help. They both glanced away. She shrugged. "I don't know."

"And if someone asks you what you do for fun, what are you going to say?" Sam asked.

"Drawing?" Kitty asked uncertainly.

"That's a good talent, and something you can talk about. But what about when they're asking for performers on the pianoforte?" Sam continued. "Or to sing a song in French or Italian? Or if they ask you about the works of Michelangelo or the Dutch masters? Or the state of your tenants?"

Kitty's jaw dropped. "I don't know."

"And if a young man courts you and marries you. How are you going to balance the accounts, order the servants, organize parties, help the tenants, sew and mend the linens, and spend the evenings in company?"

Kitty shrugged again. "I don't know any of that." She suddenly let out a cry. "I'm going to be a spinster aren't I? I don't know how to do anything! No one's going to want to look at me!"

Jane moved to give her younger sister a hug.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the teen.

"Learn," Kitty sniffed, realizing she needed to get a move on with her education. "Will you help me?"

"Of course dearest," Jane said, petting her sister's hair soothingly. "We'll all help you, and we'll all learn together."

Mary nodded. "I'll help you learn the pianoforte if you'll teach me how to draw flowers."

Kitty gave her a smile.

"Well I'm not going to learn any of that," Lydia huffed indignantly. "It's all dreadfully boring, and rich ladies don't have to do anything but look pretty."

"Oh really," Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Then until you decide to grow up and be a credit to your family, you're not going anywhere except the house and the front garden, where we can keep an eye on you."

Lydia shrieked in outrage. "That's not fair!"

"We're trying to build good foundations for the rest of our lives in the public eye," Sam said severely. "If you don't want to do it, then you're never going to be allowed out in public. Simple as that. No one wants a brat at a party. Right?"

"Right," Mrs. Bennet said, suddenly realizing how spoiled her youngest daughter was. "We don't want anything to ruin our chances at the future."

Lydia, bereft of both her allies, began to pitch a fit.

"UPSTAIRS!" Mr. Bennet roared, irritated, pointing at the door. "Don't come down until you've decided to become civilized!"

Lydia stomped her way up the stairs, leaving the door gaping open, exposing all the servants in the hallway, listening. "I HATE YOU SAM!" she screamed, and the door to her and Kitty's room slammed shut.

Mr. Bennet looked at Mrs. Hill. "Could we have another pot of tea, Mrs. Hill?" he asked politely.

"Yes sir," Hill said nervously.

Sam held out a hand to stop the servants scurrying away. "Tell the girls that if they want a few life lessons in, uh, biology, they can come to me."

"Are you meaning to start a revolution?" Mr. Bennet asked, amused, as the servants hurried back to their work, whispering amongst themselves.

Sam grinned. "I'm a college-educated American woman. Yes sir."

Mr. Bennet warned the servants that the only thing they were to spread about the Bennets was the offer of Sam's to educate the young women of the community. Anything else was to stay within the walls of Longbourn.

-P-

The day of the assembly came only a few days later. Lydia refused to come out of her room. Kitty eagerly helped the older girls get dressed, and she, Sam, and Mary practiced the dances in the living room while Jane picked out the tune on the pianoforte to help them keep rhythm. Mary had almost decided to stay home, but she preferred music and people over Lydia's volatile temper, so it was a merry party of six that headed to the assembly.

As promised, Mrs. Bennet did not force Mary to accept the attentions of Uncle Phillip's clerk, and instead took the opportunity to introduce Sam to the other families as "Our dear distant cousin from America." The local young men found her interesting, due to her accent and her frank speech, and she didn't sit out a single dance.

The day after the assembly, a packet of correspondence came for Mr. Samuel Langford, from St. James' Court.

"Well?" Lizzy asked impatiently, as Sam seemed content to simply stare at the package. "Are you going to open it?" Lizzy continued.

Sam shook her head. "I can't, I'm too nervous." She let out a giggle. "Do you think nerves are contagious? I'm feeling some very strange flutterings."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "You're already assured of the patent from the future, Samantha, just open it."

Sam squinted, scowled, stuck out her tongue, opened the letter without looking at it, and held it out to Lizzy. "You read it."

Lizzy laughed at her and read the letter out loud. "To, Samuel Langford, your presentation of the shower-bath has been," Lizzy laughed, "appreciated and you have been awarded your patent."

The two young women shrieked and giggled and hugged like the eighteen-year-old girls they were, and then settled down to read the terms of the patent.

"That is...quite the return on the patent," Lizzy said, astonished. "You've turned the Ton upside down. I think it will become a fad."

"And Longbourn will be distinguished as having the first shower-bath in existence since the ancient Greeks," Sam decided.

-P-


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Short chapter.**

It had been three months since Samantha Langford found herself in the year 1808, and life was busy. She had directed the construction of the pump, water tank, and shower-head, and everyone in the house was delighted with it. Using the eaves to collect rainwater was her next mission, and now that it was autumn and the rains had returned to Hertfordshire, Mr. Bennet was inclined to let her remodel the roof. Well, direct Mr. Hill and young Mr. Gable from one of the tenant farms to remodel the roof.

When she wasn't engineering modern plumbing, Sam was working on her lady-like accomplishments. She could play simple tunes on the pianoforte, embroider the cross stitch and darn stockings, and sew a straight hem. She could read French and Italian fairly well, and was working on pronunciation. And she and Lizzy were learning about estate management from her father. Balancing the estate's ledgers and the household accounts was the one thing Samantha could do effortlessly. She was very good at math.

And she had the great satisfaction of holding an educational biology class every other Friday, for both the Bennet girls, the Lucas girls, the maids, and a few other girls from Meryton who were curious. She taught them about female biology, and what exactly a 'monthly' was, besides a hardship. She taught them male biology, ignoring everybody's embarrassed blushes. She taught them, and here she blushed herself, because despite her education she was very much an innocent, exactly what was involved in a 'compromise'. And then she taught them about pregnancy, drew sketches to scale of a baby's nine-month development, and went over childbirth. That lesson put several of the girls off childbearing altogether, and the biology lessons were concluded satisfactorily.

Sam's nickname in town was 'that eccentric American'. She was quite fond of that title, and determined to keep it no matter how well she could play Mozart or embroider kerchiefs.

-P-

After almost a full year, Samantha was deemed ready for more sophisticated society. To put the finishing touches on everyone's lady-like demeanors, Jane, Lizzy, and Sam were sent to London, to the Gardiner's.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were very glad to welcome Samantha as part of the Bennet family, and Sam absolutely loved them.

The young ladies, chaperoned by their sensible relations, attended the theatre, the opera, the zoo, the parks, several dinner parties, and one ball. They met several interesting people, but no one memorable. "Well at least it was an experience," Sam said encouragingly.

"It will be an experience to go back and face mama," Lizzy muttered, scowling dramatically.

"Lizzy!" Jane scolded lightly.

"You know mama will be disappointed none of us secured any suitors," Lizzy said, "even Sam."

"Especially me," Sam said, smirking. "The sooner I'm out of your mother's hair, the less competition there is."

"Sam!" both girls chorused reprovingly. "Don't say that," Lizzy said, "mama is very fond of you."

Sam smiled. "I know, I know."

-P-

It was their last full day in town. Mrs. Gardiner had taken the girls to the Strand, and they'd entered the Egyptian exhibition on display in one of the small museums. They were all delighted to view the curios and the sketches of Egypt, Africa, and the Middle East.

Sam wandered off and stopped in front of an exquisitely detailed sketch of the pyramids of Giza, and just stared. "They look exactly the same," she said aloud.

"Have you seen them before?" a young girl's voice asked, at Sam's elbow.

She whirled, startled, and nearly bumped heads with a tall, thin young lady who was maybe Lydia's age. The girl blushed. "I didn't mean to startle you, I apologize, only you said, and-" she lapsed into silence, her face flaming.

Sam smiled kindly. "It's quite all right. I was talking to myself, really, but yes I have seen them before. My parents and I visited my aunt in Giza when I was five years old, and they are truly incredible."

"Oh, how exciting!" the girl said, clasping her hands together. "What was Egypt like?"

Sam smiled wryly. "Hot, dusty, hot. The most fascinating place in the world. And hot."

A man in his late twenties came over. "Who is your friend, Georgie?"

The girl blushed again and ducked her head. "I forgot to introduce myself," she said, embarrassed.

"Samantha Langford," Sam said, dropping a curtsy.

"Lt. Col. Fitzwilliam," he said, bowing in reply. "This is my cousin, Georgiana Darcy."

"Miss Darcy."

"Miss Langford."

The two girls shared a smile. "Miss Langford has been to Egypt, cousin," Miss Darcy said, after a second.

"Oh really."

Sam squinted at the man's patronizing tone. "Indeed I have," she said neutrally. "I was only five when we made the trip but I can recall the pyramids, the tombs, and the banks of the Nile very well. They wouldn't let me play in the water because of the nearness of the city, much like the river here."

The colonel's manner changed from skepticism to interest. "Why did your parents choose to visit Egypt?" he asked.

Sam frowned slightly. "My aunt Catherine was at an archaeological dig there, and we went to visit her." Her eyes grew misty. "She died less than a year ago." She'd almost forgotten her aunt in the chaos of the last few months, and the sudden pang of sorrow had her ducking her head for composure. "She was the only family I had left," she added softly.

Miss Darcy's eyes filled with tears as well. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Langford," she said, "Please forgive me for bringing up a painful subject."

Sam blinked away her tears and forced a smile. "It wasn't you, Miss Darcy, have no fear. It was the sight of all these artifacts, it reminded me of her home full of trinkets." She gestured to the nearby display of jewelry. "Like these. Scarabs were for good luck. This other one, the eye of Ra, is the symbol for the sun god. And this one is for Apophis, the serpent god. This is Hathor, Anubis, Set - oh they categorized this one wrong." She looked up at the two cousins, eyes twinkling. "Should I tell them?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

Lt. Col. Fitzwilliam laughed. "I'd like to be there when you do, Miss Langford."

"They were like the Greeks and Romans then, with many gods?" Miss Darcy asked.

Sam nodded. "Even the river Nile was a deity." She gestured to the pyramids. "Did you know, even now we don't know how the Ancient Egyptians built the pyramids? I researched it once for a paper in-" She caught herself when both of her audience members began to stare. She blushed. "I, uh, like to read," she offered lamely.

"Ancient civilizations are a fascinating subject," Fitzwilliam offered kindly. "Could you recommend a book of myths perhaps? Both my cousins are avid readers."

Sam shook her head apologetically. "I got my knowledge from my aunt, and her books were printed-" in the twentieth century! - "in America," she said.

"You're American," the colonel said suddenly.

Sam nodded. "British by birth, raised in America, and back again." She frowned. "Speaking of which, I seem to have lost my own cousins." She looked for them, and saw Jane's blonde hair disappearing around a corner. She looked back at Col. Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy. "I must go, before they think I'm lost," she said. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"You also, Miss Langford," Fitzwilliam said, bowing.

Miss Darcy curtsied. "I hope we meet again sometime," she offered shyly.

Sam smiled and curtsied. "As do I, Miss Darcy. Have a nice day." She gave them a final smile, took a final look at the wonders of the ancient world, and hurried to catch up with her cousins.

"Where were you?" Lizzy asked, only slightly worried.

Sam smiled. "I was chatting with a sweet girl about Lydia's age, I think." She gestured to a blue-tiled artifact. "Look at that lapis lazuli, Lizzy, isn't it beautiful?"

They spent the rest of the day at the museum, and returned to Gracechurch Street content, their imaginations fired with far-off lands.

Sam got ready for bed and knelt in front of her trunk. Inside was her sea-green leather purse, with all her future treasures inside. And from the zip pocket of the purse, she pulled out a gold chain necklace. At the end of the necklace swung a crystal pendant etched with strange markings. It was encased in a gold setting, with a series of little etchings that looked vaguely Egyptian, but they were worn down by age. It was the only physical reminder of her aunt that she had left. Everything else was stuck in the future. Sam hoped that her aunt's protege was taking good care of the collection...

-P-

Their return to Longbourn was heralded with relief by Mr. Bennet and dismay by Mrs. Bennet when none of the girls returned with suitors.

"Toooold yooouuu," Sam sing-songed to Lizzy as Mrs. Bennet started on her third rant of the day.

Lizzy rolled her eyes and said in French, "Comme ce dit en francais, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Je ne c'est pas, Lizzy." And picked up the dictionary on the side table. "Je te l'avais dit," she announced triumphantly, a minute later.

Lizzy rolled her eyes again.

Life quickly resumed its normal pace of studying, working, sketching, and visiting the tenants. All the girls improved in manners, accomplishments, and experience, except Sam kept her habit of incredibly frank speech. She did pick up a bit of an accent that would spontaneously appear and disappear, leaving her with a discombobulated Brit-American mix that everyone else thought was hilarious.

-P-


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yay!**

"Netherfield Park is let at last!"

The joyous tones of Mrs. Bennet rang through the house, and Sam put down her sewing. "That big empty house?" she asked. "Who's got it?"

"A Mister Bingley, from the north. He has 5 thousand a year and is, for all accounts, very amiable."

The girls flocked around, asking details, and it turned out that Mr. Bennet had already been to visit him. And yes, he was very amiable. Mr. Bennet described him as a Golden Retriever, eager to please and be pleased. "And yes, he will be at the Assembly tomorrow. As will his friend from university."

Eager giggling filled the house.

-P-

"I don't mean to presume, sir, but you look like you'd rather be anywhere else at the moment."

Darcy looked down at the young woman who'd spoken. She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his response. "You would be correct, Miss?"

"Langford," she replied. "Sir Lucas introduced us about half an hour ago."

"Ah yes, you are with the Bennet family." He glanced at the two eldest who were conversing with Miss Lucas.

"Yep, that's me."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're an American."

"What gave it away?" she asked wryly. "The lack of society manners?"

"The accent," he corrected. "The lack of society manners is prevalent already."

"So is rudeness, apparently," she retorted, and smirked when he had the grace to blush faintly.

"I apologize Miss Langford," he said, and explained, "I was not in the mood for a social gathering but my host insisted."

"I see," she said, glancing at Miss Bingley.

"I believe you do," Darcy said, amused in spite of himself.

She smirked. "What causes her persistence?"

"I'm sure a woman of your intelligence can guess."

"Money, status, greed?" she asked after a moment.

He gave a slight bow in acknowledgement.

"I see. I suppose it doesn't help that all the respectable mothers in this place are gawking at your reputation," she mused. "No wonder you'd rather be anywhere else. Isn't London worse though? The dreaded ton?"

"Indeed," he said, amused by her complete honesty.

She nodded. "I would guess you don't do casual conversation either, Mr. Darcy?"

"Not when I can avoid it."

She smiled at him cheerfully, "Well, there's at least three other people in this place that are not fortune hunters and don't care a fig about small talk. Would you like to talk philosophy, politics, estate management, literature, or history?"

He raised an eyebrow. "If such company is to be found, I would appreciate it, Miss Langford."

"Good." She nodded to the two eldest Miss Bennets and Miss Lucas. "There they are."

Darcy frowned. "Are you mocking me?"

"Not at all. When I'm mocking you, you'll know. I'm very unsubtle. American, you know." She gave him a wry grin. "Jane and Lizzy and Charlotte, I mean Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Lucas, are intelligent, polite, and clever. Neither Jane or Lizzy want to marry for anything but the deepest love and respect, so you're safe from them. Charlotte wouldn't go after you, because she knows what kind of 'standards' rich people have. They're all well-read and if you stop scowling you might actually find a few friends."

He stared at her, mouth agape. He snapped his jaw shut and shook his head. "And yourself, Miss Langford?" he asked, deciding to return her bluntness. "Are you a fortune hunter?"

"No. I would make a terrible rich person. Before I came to this country I'd never even had servants. Wouldn't know what to do with a whole house full of 'em. And frankly, I'd rather jump into the ocean than go to society balls." She smirked. "And since you're apparently super rich, well, you're completely safe in my presence."

He laughed in spite of himself. "I have never in my life met anyone as impertinent as yourself, Miss Langford."

She smirked. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Darcy. Now shall we go over there, or would you rather ask Miss Bingley to dance?"

He offered her his arm. "By all means, Miss Langford."

She led him over to the three girls, who promptly fell silent. "Mr. Darcy likes to read," she prompted.

Elizabeth was the first to speak up. "And do you read all genres sir, or are you fond of one particular sort?"

"I like all genres," he replied.

"Even novels?" Lizzy continued, eyes sparkling with mirth.

He managed a small grin. "Even the occasional novel," he admitted. "I have a younger sister, and as her guardian I must ensure that she reads the more edifying stories."

"How old is your sister?" Jane asked kindly.

He started telling them about Georgiana, and then Miss Langford gasped. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Your sister, is she tall, blonde, and very shy?" she asked, a memory from their visit to London resurfacing.

Mr. Darcy nodded hesitantly. "She is, yes."

"I think I met her," Sam said, "at one of the little museums on the Strand, at an Egyptian exhibit a year ago. She was with a, uh, colonel? Her cousin, I think, maybe?"

"My cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam?" Mr. Darcy asked, intrigued.

"Yes, that's it. I completely forgot until just now." She smiled at him. "Did your cousin ever give you a book on Egyptian myths?"

"Yes he did," Darcy said, after a second.

Sam's smile widened. "And did you read it, sir?"

"Yes I did."

All five of them talked about ancient history for a bit, and as the talk wandered onto other subjects he found himself relaxing, even smiling and teasing with Miss Elizabeth and Miss Langford. He asked all four of them to dance, and quite enjoyed the evening. He did notice Bingley making mooncalf eyes at Miss Bennet the entire time. When the assembly began to break up, he escorted Miss Langford and Miss Elizabeth to the door.

"Thank you, Miss Langford, for your timely intervention," he said, giving her a short bow. "I quite enjoyed myself, after all."

She grinned. "No problem at all, Mr. Darcy." She gave him a brief curtsy and climbed into the carriage.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth. "Your friend is very..."

"American?" Lizzy asked, smiling knowingly.

"If that's the word for it."

She smiled and curtseyed. "Good night, Mr. Darcy."

"Good night Miss Elizabeth." He joined the Bingleys and the Hursts in the carriage and smiled at Bingley's lovestruck look.

"Miss Bennet is an angel," Bingley said, right on cue.

Darcy couldn't help it. He laughed.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged an eye-roll and a sigh. "Please Charles," Miss Bingley said. "Miss Bennet is beautiful, of course, but she hardly has anything else to recommend her. And her family!"

"I found the Miss Bennets well-read and articulate," Darcy said calmly.

"What a rarity in this part of the world," Miss Bingley said, and she and her sister giggled.

Darcy rolled his eyes.

-P-

The next day, Jane was invited to tea at Netherfield. She wanted to take the carriage, but one of the horses was lame, and the other one couldn't be spared from the farm. So she took Nellie, the horse the girls rode, and went to Netherfield. It started raining ten minutes after she left.

"Great," Sam said critically, frowning out the window. "She's going to get a cold, and not a Nyquil in sight."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're so cynical, Sam. Jane will be fine."

"She will have to stay the night if the rain doesn't let up," Lizzy said, frowning.

It didn't let up, and everyone went to bed early. Sam listened to 'Rhapsody in Blue' on her phone before falling asleep.

That day they were dyeing ribbons and fabric. The agreed-upon color was pink, and Sam's job was to cut up the beetroot. They were singing "Row, row, row your boat" in rounds when a messenger came from Netherfield.

"She's sick," Lizzy said, dismayed.

"What does she say?" Kitty asked.

"That except for a headache, fever, and a sore throat there's nothing much wrong with her, but they won't hear of sending her home." Lizzy frowned. "I must go to her at once."

"Not alone, young lady," Mr. Bennet chided, passing by the kitchen. "Take one of your sisters with you."

"Not I!" Lydia and Kitty declared, touching their noses. Sam had showed them "nose goes" and it was the de facto way of choosing in the Bennet household.

"Sam, come with me?" Lizzy asked.

"Sure. Nothing like a good splash in the puddles," Sam said cheerfully.

Mrs. Bennet sighed in despair. "The pair of you won't be fit to be seen," she complained.

"We shall be fit to see Jane, which is our main purpose," Lizzy said firmly. "Come along, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam replied, pointing at Kitty. "You chop the beets."

"Aw."

Lizzy and Sam walked out on the lanes, and soon came to Netherfield.

Mr. Darcy was in the front garden with a giant hunting dog. He was wrestling a stick away from the dog, grinning, and stopped abruptly when he spotted the two young ladies. He cleared his throat and walked over. "Miss Bennet. Miss Langford."

They curtsied. "Mr. Darcy," Lizzy said. "We came to inquire after Jane."

"Oh of course," Darcy said. "Allow me to escort you." He offered his arm to Lizzy.

Sam was talking to the dog. "You're so big and handsome, yes you are," she cooed, scratching his head and running her hands over his thick coat.

"Sam?" Lizzy asked, grinning.

She stood up straight and blushed. "Ahem. Sorry. I like dogs."

"He is a handsome beast," Lizzy added, letting the dog sniff her hand. She scratched his ear.

Darcy smiled at the both of them. "His name is Laertes."

"King of Denmark, or father of Odysseus?" Lizzy asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "King of Denmark. I'm amazed you know both those references."

Sam frowned at him. "Haven't seen a girl read Greek mythology?" she asked.

"I have never seen a lady possess the intelligence to remember all the characters of a Greek epic," Darcy corrected, his gaze directed at Lizzy.

Sam saw the look pass between them, and smirked. Someone's got a cruuuuush... her inner monologue sang out, pleased as punch. "Lizzy's very intelligent," she informed Darcy. She started to the house. "Where did you say Jane was?"

Darcy escorted the two inside, and had a footman lead them upstairs to Jane's room. He went to find Bingley directly. "Miss Elizabeth and Miss Langford are upstairs, tending to Miss Bennet," he informed him.

Bingley perked up and put down his ledger. "Really? That's kind of them to walk all this way. Why didn't you show them into the parlor? Caroline and Louisa are dying for some company."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "Bingley, would you like to visit someone with mud on your clothes?"

"Well no, I suppose I wouldn't. And my sisters wouldn't like it very much, would they?"

"No they would not." Darcy went to the window and smiled out at the garden. "Bingley, do you know the name of my dog?"

"Which one?"

"Laertes."

"Well it's Laertes." Bingley gave him an odd look. "I say Darce, what are you on about?"

"The origin of his name," Darcy pressed.

Bingley frowned. "Shakespeare?" he hazarded.

Darcy grinned. "Not the Oddessey?"

"Is it?"

"No."

"Oh." Bingley raised an eyebrow at him. "Well then why... wait. Why are you smiling?"

Darcy turned back to the window. "No reason. Go back to your ledgers, Bingley. Tomorrow we'll ride out and survey the property."

Bingley rolled his eyes and picked up the ledger again. Two seconds later he put it down. "Do you think Miss Bennet will be well enough to attend supper?" he asked hopefully.

"Who knows."

Upstairs, Sam and Lizzy were fussing over Jane. "I'm fine, really," Jane insisted.

"Yes, that shine on your brow is pure cream highlighter," Sam replied sarcastically.

Jane gave her a look. "Huh?"

"Never mind." Sam patted her arm gently. "You just focus on getting better." She winked. "In the meantime we'll talk about all your good qualities to Mr. Bingley."

The fever flush on Jane's cheeks darkened. "Sam..."

"Or I'll talk to Mr. Darcy about Lizzy," Sam continued.

Lizzy blushed. "Sam!"

Sam was pushed onto the bed and tickled by the two Bennets, and she giggled helplessly. "I give, I give!" she yelped, scrambling away.

The giggles from Jane's room made the passing maids smile.

-P-

The rain started again with a vengeance, and Bingley kindly extended the offer of staying over to Lizzy and Sam. A footman hurried to Longbourn and back with clothes before the rain made the roads impassable to all traffic.

"I'm so glad we got new gowns from our aunt this last season," Lizzy said, smoothing her skirt.

Sam wrestled her dress on. "Can you lace me up?"

"Only if you do mine."

"Of course."

They finished dressing and went downstairs. Sam grinned when everyone stared at them in shock. Not so country-bumpkin now, are we? she asked silently, hiding a smirk at Miss Bingley's chagrined expression. Her smile softened into sincerity when she saw that Darcy hadn't stopped staring at Lizzy. Well, he had good reason to; Lizzy was a vision in silk pistachio green.

"Shall we?" Bingley asked, offering Sam and his sister an arm each.

Sam grinned when Darcy led Lizzy to a seat beside him. She sat next to Bingley, and across from Caroline. The Hursts were on her other side.

"Wherever did you get such a marvelous fabric?" Caroline asked her.

Sam glanced down at her peach-colored gown briefly. "Our uncle's warehouse," she said, deciding to be frank.

"Your uncle is in trade?" Caroline said, her disingenuous smile turning into a sneer.

"It's nice to know we have something in common, isn't it?" Sam asked, her own disingenuous smile widening in a facade of cheerfulness.

Caroline's jaw fell open and she stared at Sam.

Sam demurely sipped her soup. She gave Bingley a side glance, and counted it as a success when he merely grinned at his sister's affronted expression.

"It is very nice," Bingley said, since Caroline seemed to have been struck dumb. "We come from trade, of course, but my father wanted us to have land of our own. Your family has been landed for a long time, of course."

"At least ten generations," Sam replied, with a nod, acknowledging the compliment to her family. She gave him a smile. "But you're well on your way, Mr. Bingley. Netherfield is an excellent place to start out with."

Darcy spoke up about one of the latest things about the war in France, and the conversation continued. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, affronted by the conversation, stayed silent as everyone else traded opinions and exchanged bits of knowledge.

After dinner, the men forwent the separation of the sexes, and everyone gathered in the drawing room.

Miss Bingley went to the pianoforte and opened it. "Shall we have some music?" she asked brightly. "Miss Eliza, Miss Langford, would one of you like to start us off?" She gave them a look. "You do play, of course?"

"Of course," Sam said easily. "All of us play, but Lizzy and Mary are the more talented of the bunch." She looked at Lizzy. "Play something?"

Lizzy blushed. "If you insist." She moved to the pianoforte, and started to play something by Mozart, light and airy.

Sam moved to sit by Darcy and Bingley. "When Jane is better, perhaps we can persuade her to sing," she commented. "The two of them together make quite the duet."

"Miss Bennet sings?" Bingley asked, focusing on Sam, his eyes lighting up.

"Like an angel," Sam said, nodding.

Darcy completely ignored them as he stared intently at Lizzy.

At the end of the song, when Lizzy looked up and met his eye, the two of them looked away, embarrassed.

Miss Bingley saw the interaction, and she quickly sat down at the pianoforte and began to play something grandiose and formal. She was completely ignored by Darcy, although he clapped politely at the end of her song.

The evening passed uneventfully, and Sam and Lizzy retired early to tend to Jane.

As soon as they were gone, Miss Bingley gave a nasally sigh. "Their dresses were decent but that was their only saving grace. That American is so indelicate, and Miss Eliza is nearly as bad."

"I found them well-informed and eloquent," Darcy replied briskly. "Bingley, shall we finish off the night with a brandy in your study?"

"That sounds very well. Mr. Hurst?"

The three gentlemen retired to the study.

-P-

The next day Jane was better, and came downstairs for a bit after supper. Bingley was delighted, and the two of them spent the entire evening sitting near the fire, talking up a storm. Darcy and Lizzy did the same in the other corner, looking out the window at the night sky. Sam was left to handle the inimitable sisters and Mr. Hurst, which she did with wit and as much grace as she could exhibit under pressure of not slapping Caroline Bingley. She just tried to remind herself that it was Jane and Lizzy's futures at stake.

They all went home on Sunday afternoon, and Bingley escorted them home in his carriage. "May I call on you, Miss Bennet?" he asked, as he was handing them out.

Jane blushed. "You may."

He kissed the back of her hand before letting go.

As soon as they were inside, Mrs. Bennet rounded on Jane. "Well?" she demanded.

Jane just smiled.

Mrs. Bennet sighed happily. "I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing!"

-P-


	6. Chapter 6

After that, there was a lot of traffic between Netherfield and Longbourn. Mr. Bingley was a faithful visitor, and Mr. Darcy was no less constant. The younger Bennets were admonished to behave, and not let their sisters out of their sight. Thus, when the militia arrived to winter in Meryton, they were basically ignored. Lydia and Kitty begged Sam to take them to see them marching in, but as the two girls were not out yet, and Sam had already told them what the salary of an officer was, their interest extended only to the scarlet coats and not the actual people.

Everyone else in town was besotted with the militia, however. At every card party, gathering, and assembly, red coats made up the majority. They were polite, for the most part, and the ones that weren't were soon uninvited.

Sam had gone with Lizzy and Jane to a card party hosted by their Aunt Phillips, and while the girls played bridge (she hated it), Sam entertained herself by building a house of cards.

"An impressive skill," a smooth voice said, almost causing her to lose concentration.

She placed the next card and looked up at the suave, handsome militia officer. "One I continually strive to improve," she said, and placed the next card without looking. The structure stayed solid, and she quirked an eyebrow at the officer in challenge. Leave me alone.

"Lt. Wickham, at your service," the soldier said, bowing. "We were introduced at the beginning of the party."

"Of course. Lt." She gave him a nod and returned to her card house, giving him a blatant 'not interested'.

He sat down across from her anyways and gave her a silky smooth smile.

She classified him as an A1 prime creeper, the kind that leered at girls on buses and catcalled from the sidewalks, and contemplated slipping poison into his tea if he knocked over her house of cards. Something about him made her feel incredibly stabby.

"You're from America, I hear?" he asked, flashing his baby blues at her.

"Yes I am, how could you tell?" she asked flatly.

"Your firey spirit, for one," he said, giving her a grin. "You're different from all these placid, tame, English ladies. Americans, I hear, are more lively."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious right now? Like, seriously?"

Wickham's smile froze in place.

"You're new in town, and you pick the American to hit on?" she asked. "What, you think I'm going to be an easy mark? That if you butter me up and call me lively, maybe I'll be a little more willing to let myself be seduced?"

By now everyone was looking at them. Wickham started shaking his head, "I wasn't-"

"You were," Sam retorted. "I can see it in your smarmy little grin right there, that one you're trying to hide. What were you going to do next? Show me your soft, sensitive, side, tell me a story about your troubled past, make the whole town sympathize with you, and then pick your conquests?" She raised an eyebrow. "It's been four weeks since the militia came to town. How many servants and shopkeeper's daughters have you gotten cute with?"

Wickham stammered, adjusted his collar, his uniform jacket, and his cuffs, and then hastily tried to excuse himself from the room.

Two of his fellow soldiers collared him before he could leave the room. "That is a very good question," the other lt. said firmly. "Should we check your credit with the shops too?"

"Oh no, not at all," Wickham said.

The card party came to a conspicuous end as all the red coats filed out, and the Bennet sisters moved to sit next to Sam. "Are you all right?" Jane asked nervously.

"I'm perfectly fine." Sam hid a smirk behind her hand. "Terribly sorry for accidentally causing a ruckus."

Lizzy pressed her lips together, trying to hide a smile. "I don't think you're very sincere, Sam."

"Really?" Sam asked giggling. "What gave it away?"

-P-

Lt. Wickham had already racked up forty pounds of credit, and after some investigation he was found to have "gotten cute" with two shopkeeper's daughters and the innkeeper's daughter. He tried to run away from the militia, and was arrested for desertion.

When Darcy heard the news from Lizzy during their daily walk, he first turned white with shock, then red with anger, and then when he heard what had become of the reprobate, he turned red with suppressed laughter. And then he gave up the pretense and started to laugh until he lost his breath.

Lizzy was very surprised by his reaction and demanded an explanation, if he was inclined to give one.

The story Darcy told her of two childhood friends and their subsequent adult lives made Lizzy very glad Darcy was the white knight of the story.

At the end of the walk, Sam put down the very interesting book she'd been reading while letting the couple walk ten feet ahead of her, and asked, "Tea now? Greek myths always make me hungry."

"Miss Langford, thank you very much," Darcy said, shaking her hand vigorously.

She raised her eyebrows blankly. "What'd I do?"

"I'll let Miss Elizabeth tell you," Darcy said, bowing to both ladies and taking his leave before they entered Longbourn house. He collected Bingley from Jane's side, and the two gentlemen were off.

Lizzy wasted no time in telling Sam about Wickham's checkered past. "I knew it," Sam said, nodding firmly. "Creeper McCreeperson's are the same in either century. You should've seen my first semester college professor. Very dirt-bag-ish."

Lizzy gave her a roll of the eyes. "The things you say, Sam," was all she said, and they went inside.

-P-

"I hope you've prepared a good supper, my dear, we will be expecting guests," Mr. Bennet told his wife.

"Guests?" Mrs. Bennet asked.

"Guests?" all the girls chimed in, interestedly. "Who, papa?"

"Our cousin Mr. Collins."

"Who?" Sam asked.

Mr. Bennet explained their relation to the parson Collins, and let Sam and Lizzy read the letter.

"He sounds ridiculous," Sam said, dropping the letter with a disgusted huff.

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "That he does. But still, we must receive him."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes lit up with matchmaking glee. "I want you all to put on your nicest gowns," she decided, ushering the girls upstairs.

Mr. Collins arrived precisely on time at four in the afternoon, and immediately no one liked him.

"Mr. Collins, you are very welcome."

He lumbered down from the hired chaise, and bowed, a cheesy smile on his face. "My dear Mr. and Mrs. Bennet."

Dinner was an hour later. "I understand you have a patroness in Lady Catherine de Bourgh," Mr. Bennet said, after an awkward beginning.

"Oh yes, of course, I have been treated with such affability, such condescension, as I have never been treated so before." He rambled on and on about his patroness and his patroness' esteemed daughter, and by the second course, Sam was ready to stab a fork into her ears.

"These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay."

"It is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy," Mr. Bennet said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

Sam choked on her food and raised a napkin to her mouth to hide her smile. She caught Lizzy's eyes across the table and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Lizzy spoke up. "May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?"

Jane kicked her from across the table. Lydia giggled, and then Kitty poked her in the ribs to behave. Mr. Collins didn't notice. "They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

"No one could think you lacking," Mr. Bennet said, a twinkle in his eyes.

Sam choked again.

They somehow made it through the rest of dinner without making too much fun of Mr. Collins, and when he suggested reading aloud to the family, Sam blithely produced the latest novel from London.

Mr. Collins stared at her, horrified. "Novels are the works of the devil, and as a reading material, it is highly improper for young ladies," he said firmly.

"Oh I beg your pardon, of course," Sam said, exchanging a glance with Kitty.

Kitty snickered into her embroidery.

Somehow they suffered through an hour of Fordyce's sermons, and then all the girls retired early. As soon as they got upstairs they all piled into Sam's room and collapsed on the bed, giggling like mad.

"I don't care how much he wants to make it up to this family, I can't stand him," Lydia said frankly.

"And he chews with his mouth open," Kitty added.

"Let us make a pact," Lizzy said, "never to marry him. We shall have to stand firm against mama."

"As long as she doesn't want to marry him off to me," Sam said, worried.

Lizzy smiled. "I don't think there's much chance of that. Did you see his face when you pulled out the novel?"

They all started giggling again.

-P-

Mr. Collins did indeed disapprove heartily of Sam, and declared her a wild, un-Christian heathen who was corrupting the fine English roses of the Bennet family. He did so loudly, within Mr. Bennet's hearing.

Mr. Bennet forbade him from speaking that way to any members of the family, including Sam, and told him that if he didn't hold his tongue, he would be on his way back to Hunsford before evening.

Mr. Collins subsided for an entire afternoon, and decided to ignore Sam completely. He focused his attentions, if they could be called, that, on Mary, as not too high nor too low a goal. Mary went and hid in Lydia's room for the rest of the evening.

The next day an invitation came for the Netherfield Ball. Bingley and Darcy delivered the invitation themselves, and met Mr. Collins. The parson was beside himself with joy in meeting his patroness' esteemed nephew, and the future husband of Anne de Bourgh.

Mr. Darcy's eyes widened when Collins said that. "I pray you not to speak of things which do not concern you," Darcy said sharply.

"But such a marriage between two such noble estates is a glad concern to all," Mr. Collins said.

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "I am not engaged to my cousin Anne," he said firmly, and glanced at Lizzy, who was watching the exchange with interest. He turned back to Collins. "My aunt, Lady Catherine, persists in this fiction, but neither I nor my cousin are inclined to marry one another. I, for my part, will only marry where there is a mutual affection." His piece said, he retreated to the window until Bingley was ready to leave.

Sam and Jane looked at Lizzy as the gentlemen left. "Mutual affection," Sam said, giving Lizzy an inquiring eyebrow.

Lizzy blushed.

Mrs. Bennet intervened. "Make haste, make haste! There are only two weeks until the ball and we must all wear our best!"

-P-

The two weeks passed quickly in a flurry of dresses and lace and studying, and then it was the night of the ball. Sam had tried to trick Mr. Collins into staying home since dancing was 'an overly gay activity for a parson', but he insisted Lady Catherine would not mind. He requested two dances from Mary. She had no choice but to allow it.

"Don't worry," Sam told her, as she was braiding Mary's hair, "I'll stay by your side the whole night if you want, and fend him off."

"Oh good," Mary sighed in relief.

Lydia pouted from the bed. "I want to go the ball."

"Two more years and you'll be able to go," Sam promised.

Lydia sighed wistfully. "Bring me a bit of dessert?"

"Sure."

The Bennets arrived in splendour. Bingley immediately requested a dance from Jane. Darcy requested a dance from Lizzy. Sam, Mary, and Kitty headed off to find Charlotte and Maria and snacks.

Mr. Collins finally found Mary and requested his two dances. Mary was reluctantly escorted to the dance floor. Sam dragged Kitty onto the dance floor next to her, to keep an eye on Mr. Collins.

Bingley hardly strayed from Jane's side the whole night, and at dinner, the reason why was explained. They were officially courting with a view to getting engaged.

Darcy danced with Lizzy twice that night, and caused quite a stir.

Sam watched in horrified amazement through the rest of the night as Charlotte encouraged Collins' attentions to herself. "Are you crazy?" she asked Charlotte, pulling her aside for a whispered conversation. "He's a total sycophant!"

"Sam, you have independent means and the heart of a feminist," Charlotte said, shaking her head, "I do not. I want security and a house of my own, and Mr. Collins is not so bad as you think." She looked over at Lizzy, who was smiling and arguing with Darcy. "We cannot all marry inspired conversationalists."

Sam sighed. "I guess you're right, I just, I feel like you could do better."

Charlotte gave her a hug. "Not in this century, my dear."

"No, I guess not." Sam let her go back to Mr. Collins, and sighed. How close you are to the truth, dear Charlotte. Not in this century, but in two, maybe.

-P-

The day after the ball, Mr. Collins announced his engagement to Miss Lucas. The Bennets were glad to see him gone almost daily to Lucas Lodge, and got on with their studies and their business.

Bingley was a constant visitor, and Darcy came almost as often. Sam, Kitty, and Mary were pressed into service as chaperones, and the lanes around the estate were much used.

Sam was following the courting couple at a discrete distance, when she saw Bingley suddenly kneel down at Jane's feet. Sam stifled a shriek and hid behind a tree, watching avidly as Bingley said something, lots of somethings, Jane started to happy-cry, and they kissed. She counted to ten in German, then moved closer and started to cough and clear her throat dramatically until they got the hint.

"Oh Sam," Jane said, grabbing her in a hug. "I am the happiest of women!"

Sam hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. "I'm so happy for you!" She shook hands with Bingley. "A sweeter woman you couldn't have found," she told him.

Bingley was all smiles. "I know."

Lizzy cried over her sister's good fortune, and everyone else was equally overjoyed. "I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing," Mrs. Bennet wailed happily, hugging her eldest child.

The wedding was set for a month hence.

-P-


	7. Chapter 7

Meryton, Longbourn, and Netherfield were stirred to action the next month, as the banns were read, wedding clothes were ordered and fitted, and relations began to arrive in town for the wedding. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst could do nothing but offer insincere smiles of congratulation.

Darcy asked Bingley if he could bring Georgiana and Col. Fitzwilliam to Netherfield for the wedding.

"Why of course, Darcy, I would be glad to host them." Bingley gave him an inquiring look. "You're not really bringing them for the wedding, are you?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Darcy replied, his face a stone mask of indifference.

Bingley started to grin. "You want their approval for Miss Elizabeth, don't you?"

Darcy started to scowl. "I don't know what you're talking about, Bingley."

Bingley's grin got wider. "You're in love with Miss Elizabeth and you want Georgiana's opinion," he accused.

Darcy was silent for a moment and then asked, "Is it that obvious?"

Bingley grinned. "Only to anyone with eyes, my dear fellow." He clapped Darcy on the shoulder. "Just think, if you marry Miss Elizabeth, we shall be brothers!"

"Nothing has been said nor decided," Darcy reminded him.

"Well then what are you waiting for, man?" With that thought, he left him in the library to think.

Darcy stalked to the study to write a letter to Col. Fitzwilliam.

-P-

Col Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy arrived at Netherfield three days later. They had a day to rest, and then Miss Bingley was persuaded to invite the Bennets to tea.

"Remember," Lizzy coached as they all got out of the carriage, "Mr. Darcy said his sister is shy, so we must be kind to her, and not overwhelm her."

"Yes of course, Lizzy, we're not going to eat the poor child," Mary said, smirking at her.

"Nervous much?" Sam added.

"Not at all," Lizzy replied, squaring her shoulders.

Georgie was willing to please and be pleased, and the Bennet sisters immediately took her into the fold, as it were. Through gentle questioning and encouragement, Lizzy got Georgiana to open up, and they were all great friends by the end of tea-time.

Colonel Fitzwilliam approved of Lizzy, too, and he saw Darcy's regard for her just in their interactions alone. He smiled behind his tea cup. "They'll make a fine pair," he said to himself.

Sam came over to offer him some biscuits. "Some more refreshments for our entertainment?" she asked, smirking towards the besotted Bingley and Jane, and the currently-staring-into-each-other's-eyes Darcy and Lizzy.

The colonel smirked. "Entertainment indeed. I've never seen my cousin so animated since he was a young lad." He took a biscuit and smiled at Sam. His brow furrowed slightly, and he tilted his head. "Have we met before, Miss Langford?"

She smiled. "You have a good memory. Do you remember the Egyptian museum?"

His brow cleared. "Oh yes, you were the impertinent young lady who visited Egypt, and, you declared that one of the artifacts was labeled wrongly."

Sam grinned. "That's me, the impertinent one. And I maintain that it still is mislabeled."

He grinned slightly. "I trust your judgement, Miss Langford." He took another biscuit from the tray, and looked at the two couples again. He glanced back at Sam thoughtfully. "And as I trust your judgement, what is your opinion of Miss Elizabeth?"

"Lizzy is as dear to me as a sister," Sam said sharply, "and I would not let her fall in love or marry anyone who was not worthy of her."

"Over the objections of her mother?" the Colonel asked skeptically.

"Yes," Sam declared.

"My cousin is a fine man, a true gentleman in every sense of the word," the Colonel said defensively. "He would treat any woman like a queen."

"And Lizzy is the epitome of a lady, who would love her husband with her whole heart and soul and make any man a fine partner," she retorted.

He toasted her with the teacup. "Then I believe they really are suited to one another."

She returned the gesture with a smile. "In that we are agreed, Colonel."

-P-

After the Bennets returned home, Darcy corralled his sibling and his cousin into the nearest quiet room. "What did you think of our guests?" he asked, trying to put on a semblance of calm.

"Oh, the Bennet girls are so lovely," Georgiana said wistfully. "I would want sisters just like them." She smoothed her gown. "Miss Bennet is truly Mr. Bingley's equal in easy manners and gentle temperament, and Miss Elizabeth, she is kind and witty, and I like her very much. Miss Mary is quiet, but she and I got on very well talking about music, and Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia are lively, but very nice too. I very much enjoyed their company, brother."

Darcy gave her a gentle smile. "I'm glad you may have some friends your age," he said. He turned to his cousin. "What did you think of them, Richard?" he asked.

The colonel was not known for his serious nature. "They are angels, every last one of them," he declared, smirking. "I agree with Georgie that Miss Bennet and Bingley are perfect for each other."

"And the others?" Darcy asked, trying to force nonchalance into his tone.

"The two youngest remind me of Georgie, but more outspoken, and Miss Mary is quite shy. And Miss Elizabeth..." He caught Darcy's tense inhale, and hid a smirk. "Why I believe I could fall in love with her quite easily. Her manners are all that are graceful and witty, and she is clever and beautiful to boot. Don't you think she would do very well as the wife of a second son of an earl, Georgie? She doesn't seem like she needs an extravagant lifestyle."

Georgiana had no chance to reply, since at Darcy's wounded and horrified expression, Fitzwilliam gave up the pretense and started to bellow with laughter.

"I beg your pardon, Darce, I could not resist," Fitzwilliam chuckled, waving away his cousin's thunderous expression.

"You are not as hilarious as you think you are," Darcy grumbled, turning away to the nearest window, as was his wont.

Georgie looked from one guardian to the other, her clever mind putting the pieces together. Suddenly she gasped and clasped her hands together. "Are you in love with Miss Elizabeth, brother?" she exclaimed. "Oh how wonderful."

"I said nothing of the sort," Darcy started to protest, turning back to his family in alarm.

Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "You didn't have to say a word, cousin. As I was saying to Miss Langford, Miss Elizabeth will do very well for you indeed."

Darcy frowned at him suspiciously. "Is that your true opinion?" he asked.

"Indeed. Anyone who can upset you so thoroughly and make you smile in the company of more than two people, must be the one for you. And as I have been assured by Miss Langford, Miss Elizabeth would not marry for anything but love. If you were a clever yet kind bookkeeper, I'm sure she would fall in love with you just the same."

Darcy scowled. "But I am not a bookkeeper. That is the problem. What will society think, if I were to pursue Miss Elizabeth? What would your parents think? Am I insane to be thinking of this? She is a gentleman's daughter, yes, but everything else, our family name-"

"Oh, hang the family name," Fitzwilliam said irritably. "Georgie and I will stand by you, and if it's a love match so will mother, you can count on it. You don't care what Aunt Catherine says, anyhow, and you've not cared a fig about the rest of society until this second. Your true friends will not care about her status, just ask Bingley, and besides, I'm sure the two of you will be holed up at Pemberley more often than not." He folded his arms and looked Darcy in the eye. "Tell me that you care more for wealth than a marriage of equals, and I will throw you out the window until you come to your senses."

Darcy sighed and folded himself into the nearest chair. "There's no need for theatrics," he said, huffing. "I see your point."

Georgiana fairly danced to her cousin's side and hugged him. "Oh Richard, it will be so wonderful. I will have a new sister by spring, I am sure."

Darcy cleared his throat. "There is just one small problem. How do I go about it?"

Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. "This is what happens when you refuse to learn to flirt," he scolded. "Just keep on as you've been doing, and ask her about the future. If she's anything like Miss Langford, she'll appreciate the directness."

Darcy eyed his cousin curiously. "That's the third time you've mentioned Miss Langford, Richard," he said.

Fitzwilliam harrumphed. "What of it?"

"Nothing at all," Darcy said, content to let his cousin alone, now that he'd gotten their approval. "Shall we all go for a ride?"

-P-

The next day was warm, if a bit balmy, and when Bingley and his guests arrived at Longbourn, they were persuaded to go on a picnic. "See, we have everything prepared," Sam said, hefting one of two large baskets in the air.

Colonel Fitzwilliam swiftly relieved her of her burden. "That sounds like a marvelous idea."

Darcy took the other one from Lizzy. "Indeed."

Bingley and Jane smiled at each other.

Georgiana was quickly taken up by the remaining girls, and the entire party set out together.

As they walked towards Oakham Mount, the pairs naturally spread further apart. The girls lagged behind, Bingley and Jane were somewhere in the middle, the Col and Sam were further ahead, talking of ostriches, and Darcy and Lizzy, both excellent walkers, outstripped them all.

They talked of books and wedding affairs (they were groomsman and maid of honor, respectively, and were to have matching waistcoat and dress ribbons), and where the Bingleys would go on their wedding trip: the humble seaside, away from all contrived society.

Darcy glanced at the beauty on his arm and asked, haltingly, "Have you thought about your future, Miss Elizabeth?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Not with any great detail," she said, and a slight blush rose to her cheeks.

"You cannot always be at Longbourn," he said.

"No," was her reply.

"And with your closest sister married, you would naturally wish to find someone to spend your life with, as well," Darcy continued, his heart hammering in his chest. He glanced at her nervously. "Would you not?"

She met his eyes. "I would."

"You would?" he repeated, starting to smile.

She ducked her head and gazed at the path ahead of them. "I would not be averse to doing so," she said.

He smiled down at her, and smiled at the world in general.

The rest of the party caught up to them, as they'd reached the top of Oakham Mount, and Sam and Jane began to unpack the food.

They played word games and charades, and Sam taught them "I Spy." Lydia and Georgiana made daisy chains of wildflowers for everyone, even the men, and they all wore their wreaths proudly as they lounged about, snacking and laughing. Sam took a piece of butcher's paper from one of the baskets, and started to sketch the scene, a smile on her face.

Fitzwilliam hovered over her shoulder as she made the rough sketch come to life. "You have a talent for drawing," he said.

Sam smiled. "Thank you. I've worked hard to become good at it." She began to pick out the definitive lines of her sketch. "I might give this to Kitty to paint. She's become very proficient."

He smirked when she carefully drew in the flower wreaths laying on everyone's heads. Bingley's, haphazardly over his ear. Darcy's, prim and proper on his head as he conversed eagerly with Lizzy the merits of Robert Burns. Fitzwilliam's, half-gone already. "I see what you think of us," he said, his smirk widening.

She gestured discretely over to Bingley and Jane. The latter was reaching up tenderly to adjust his wreath, straightening it so it would rest on his mop of curls. "The sketch is already changing," she replied.

"Indeed it is."

On the way back down the trail, everyone chattered and jested in high spirits. Darcy slowed his step until he and Lizzy were at the end of the crowd. "Miss Elizabeth," he said gravely.

She turned her face up to look at him, and smiled. "Sir?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. For how could they not when the grave gentleman before her was wearing a crown of flowers?

"May I court you?" he asked.

She blushed. "You may."

He smiled tenderly at her. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth."

Mary called for their participation in a game, and the moment was broken. Both of them kept their smiles, however.

-P-

The day before the wedding, Georgiana slept over at Longbourn to be able to get ready with the girls in the morning. She bunked with Sam, and before they'd even finished plaiting their hair, the others were already piling into their room. Sam surveyed the full bed with a raised eyebrow, and collapsed dramatically on a giggling Kitty. "How come everyone always congregates in my room?" she complained.

"Because you seem to invite disorder," Lizzy replied cheerfully, giggling.

Sam grinned ruefully. She was not the most orderly of persons, and her designs and sketches for future upgrades were all over the room. "That I cannot dispute," she said, inviting Georgie to join the puppy pile.

"Jane, what did mama want?" Lydia asked, curious as to their private conversation half an hour previous.

Jane blushed to the roots of her hair. "Merely to supplement Sam's lectures," she replied, giving a significant glance towards Georgiana, who had not attended Sam's classes on biology.

All the girls giggled and blushed, and Georgie turned scarlet, having guessed what a mother would talk to her soon-to-be-married daughter about.

"So how do you feel, Jane?" Sam asked, changing the subject, "as your last night as Jane Bennet?"

Jane sighed. "I will miss you all dreadfully."

Lizzy kissed her sister's cheek fondly. "We will miss you as well, dearest, but we can easily come visit you."

"And you have your handsome Mr. Bingley," Kitty added.

Jane smiled and hugged her sisters. "Oh how I wish that you were all as happy as I!"

"Give it another couple of weeks and Lizzy will be joining you, I bet," Sam muttered.

Lizzy blushed scarlet and tried to smother Sam with a pillow.

-P-

Mr. Bennet was crossing the hall to his bedroom, and paused to smile at the sounds of laughter coming from the girl's room. He smiled wistfully. Tomorrow his baby girl would no longer be his.

-P-

The next day everyone was up early. Lizzy was in charge of getting Jane ready, and Sam was in charge of everyone else. No matter how close Sam was to the family, she would let the two eldest have their final moments of girlhood in peace.

Jane truly was a vision, in a pale pink gown and perfectly matched lace, her hair done up in loose curls and pinned back in a masterful way. She was radiant in her happiness, and everyone who saw her thought she glowed.

Her sisters, Sam, and Georgiana were dressed in their finest, and it was a joyous family that descended on the church. Mr. Bennet kissed his eldest daughter on the forehead, preparing to give her away.

Sam sat with the Bennets in the church, and smiled at an excited Bingley and a formal Darcy trying to contain him. She caught Col Fitzwilliam's eye across the aisle and smiled at him. He gave her a quick smile and looked away. She ignored this strange reaction and turned to look at the rest of the guests. Miss Bingley looked positively livid. Mr. Hurst looked sleepy, and Mrs. Hurst looked resigned. Everyone else in the church was happy, and everyone turned when the music started.

The wedding proceeded with grace and dignity, and two people were united as one. Sam may have cried, just a teensy bit.

The wedding breakfast, held at Netherfield, was beyond compare. Everyone complimented Mrs. Bennet on the decorations, the food, and the service. And the only one insincere in their congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, was Miss Bingley, but she dared not be uncivil to them for fear of being cut off.

After the wedding breakfast, Jane and Bingley departed on their wedding trip, and all the guests cleared out. Miss Bingley announced her intentions of going to London as soon as possible, since the new Mrs. Bingley would be able to act as hostess for dear Charles once they returned.

Darcy and Georgiana shared a concerned glance. If Caroline and the Hursts cleared out, they would have to go as well, with no one to act as hostess.

Suddenly a very unlikely hero came to the rescue. "You may reside in the townhouse, Caroline, but we will be staying here," Mr. Hurst declared.

Everyone looked at him, startled. Before, Hurst had not said more than ten words in company.

"Staying?" Miss Bingley asked, giving her sister a surprised glance. "Why on earth would you stay here?"

"To host the Darcys of course," her sister replied placidly, exchanging a glance with her husband.

"Charles spoke to us before the wedding," Mr. Hurst continued. "It is all arranged. You shall go to town for the winter, and we will stay here in the country. It is very nice here. Good company." He subsided to the corner table for refreshments, and that was that.

Darcy heaved a sigh in relief, and embarrassed, hoped no one noticed. Only Sam and Georgiana seemed to have noticed, and they both smiled at him.

"I will ride alongside your carriage, if you're amenable, Miss Bingley," Col Fitzwilliam added.

Both his cousins turned to him in alarm. "Surely you're not leaving yet, Richard?" Georgie asked, clinging to his arm. "I thought you were free till spring?"

"My mother desires my presence in town," he said, avoiding everyone's gaze. "And, I have trespassed on this delightful place long enough." He detached himself from Georgie and gave the company a stiff bow. "If you will excuse me, I must pack." He barely caught Sam's eye before leaving.

She stared after him, dismayed.

After saying goodbye to the Bennets, pressing a lingering kiss to Miss Elizabeth's hand, and making sure his sister was well (she was), Darcy climbed the stairs to his cousin's room.

Fitzwilliam was standing at the window, staring out, while his valet packed everything away. Wiggins, the valet, was faithful to the family, and would say nothing to anyone.

"Why are you going away?" Darcy asked bluntly. "You've received no such letter from your mother, as you would have informed me of it, and you hate town during the winter."

"I know, but I must go. I'll go to Matlock, and stay with my brother."

"Why, Richard? You don't even like your brother." Darcy took another step forward to observe his features. "Is it Miss Langford?"

Fitzwilliam flinched.

"She likes you," Darcy said frankly. "Even I, oblivious fool that I am, can see that. And you admire her as well. Why are you running away from her?"

The colonel sighed. "I am the second son of an earl, Darce. I must marry well. I do not have illusions of grandeur, but I do want to live as I have been accustomed to. And Miss Langford..." he sighed again. "She is not an heiress. She is not titled. She is an orphan from America, and her best connection is her cousin, who will be your wife. But that won't support anyone for more than an hour, and she deserves more than a colonel's salary." He shook his head. "No. I admire her, but it cannot be anything more. I am determined to cut the connection before it can do more harm to either of us."

"You would leave without giving her an explanation?" Darcy asked, scowling.

He looked at Darcy. "Can you, or Georgie, tell her goodbye for me? And explain, perhaps, why it couldn't be anything more? I leave first thing tomorrow."

Darcy sighed, and clapped his cousin on the shoulder. "I will see it done."

"Thank you Darce. I wish you well with your own lady love. Tell me when the wedding is."

Darcy frowned. "I haven't asked her yet, nor been accepted."

"But when you do, and she does, I will be here for it, I promise."

"Good. I would be furious if my best man did not attend my wedding."

They shared a grin, and Darcy left his cousin to his packing.

-P-

Miss Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam left at first light, and Netherfield was quiet.

That day, Darcy and Georgiana decided to call on Longbourn at a later hour, and Darcy told Georgie why Richard was really leaving.

"Oh poor Sam," Georgie said sorrowfully. "Poor Richard."

"That is the whole problem," Darcy agreed. "How am I going to tell her?"

Georgie shook her head. "I don't know."

-P-

When Darcys arrived at Longbourn they were greeted eagerly, and soon ensconced in the parlor with Mrs. Bennet and the girls. "Did Miss Bingley depart for London as she said?" Sam asked.

"Yes she did," Georgie said, "as did my cousin."

Sam looked at her hands. "Oh."

"Shall we take a walk?" Darcy asked abruptly.

"Oh of course you should take advantage of the weather while it lasts," Mrs. Bennet said.

The three younger Bennets declined, and so Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, Georgie, and Sam walked out into the gardens. "Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth, would you walk with Georgie for a moment?" Darcy asked gently. "I need to speak to Miss Langford."

"Of course," Lizzy said, curiosity ablaze. She took Georgie's arm and hauled her away out of earshot. "Why did the colonel leave?" she asked quietly.

Sam looked up at Mr. Darcy. "What did you need to speak to me about?" she asked.

"It's about my cousin," Darcy started, and then was at a loss to proceed.

"Why did he leave?"

"The second son of an earl has many responsibilities," Darcy said vaguely, cursing his own awkwardness. He should have told Elizabeth and she would have told Sam.

"It's my lack of fortune, isn't it?" Sam asked suddenly, a flash of clarity coming to her.

Darcy frowned. "Yes."

She sighed. "I thought so. I had hoped... we were..." She shook her head and pressed her lips together firmly. "No. There's lots of fish in the sea and I'm not even twenty-one. The colonel can do what he has to do to be happy." She gave Mr. Darcy a small crooked smile. "I will be fine, Mr. Darcy. It was only an acquaintance of a few weeks. You can be assured that I will be fine."

He gave her a bow of acknowledgement.

"Now," Sam said cheerfully, since Georgie and Lizzy were still out of earshot, "for the shovel talk."

He raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

She met his gaze. "As Lizzy doesn't have any older brothers, and I am the closest thing to it, it is my duty to warn you that if you hurt Lizzy, I will bury you." She gave him a smile. "Do we understand each other, Mr. Darcy?"

He bowed again, trying to repress a smile. "Perfectly, Miss Langford. I promise my intentions are honorable."

"Good." She stepped away, and they traded partners.

Georgie looked at her anxiously. "Are you well, Sam?" she asked.

Sam gave her a small smile. "I'm fine."

But that evening, alone in her room at last, Sam did indeed feel like crying. He'd been so nice, and kept up with her quips, and wasn't shocked by her crazy, that she'd hoped maybe... but he was gone now, and it was unlikely that he would be so open with her if they met again.

She looked in the mirror and wiped at her red eyes. "I am a strong independent woman who don't need no man," she told herself firmly.

The next day she began to write a book about modern engineering (well, modern for the eighteen hundreds), and how it would change, or stay exactly the same, over time. Each new chapter that she wrote down, she gave to Mr. Bennet to peruse and to edit.


	8. Chapter 8

Kitty, Mary, and Lydia were pressed into service as chaperones by Mrs. Bennet since they wouldn't be quite so vigilant as Sam, and her ultimate goal was to give Mr. Darcy a chance to propose. Sam made it her goal to befriend Georgie, so she wouldn't feel left out. At first Georgie was shocked by some of Sam's ways, but Sam took her under her wing and showed her that it was all right to tease people, even her admirable older brother, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with having her own opinions. Lizzy taught her this as well, and all the young women grew close over the following weeks.

Three weeks after the Bingleys' wedding, the Bennet sisters and Sam were taking turns playing Angry Birds on Sam's phone, and Lydia declared her intentions of embroidering a few of the characters onto a cushion for her room.

Kitty had just beaten the high score on a level when the parlor door slammed open, bouncing back upon its hinges. In her haste to conceal the phone, she shoved it into the sofa cushion and sat on it.

All the young ladies looked up, alarmed, into the face an enraged older woman of wealthy means. Mrs. Hill hovered anxiously behind her. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh to see you," she announced.

They all stood, and curtsied. Before Jane could say anything, Lady Catherine spoke. "Which one of you is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?" she demanded.

Lizzy spoke up. "I am, your ladyship."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "So you are the brazen hussy that has charmed her way into my nephew's life. And these I suppose are your sisters. I am sure one of you will manage to snare herself a rich husband, but I am determined my nephew will not fall into your trap."

Lizzy's jaw dropped open at the clear insult, and after a moment of stricken silence she gathered her wits. "I have not deceived Mr. Darcy in any way," she declared. "And I would thank you not to impute mercenary motives onto myself or my sisters."

"Foolish girl," Lady Catherine spat. "My daughter Anne and her cousin have been destined for one another since they were in their cradles! I will not let a penniless hoyden like yourself keep them from each other."

Lizzy lifted her chin in defiance. "Mr. Darcy himself told me that he had no intention of marrying his esteemed cousin, no matter how much the rumor was bandied about."

Lady Catherine turned almost purple with rage. "So the shades of Pemberley are to be thus polluted! How can you be so selfish?!"

"Mr. Darcy is a gentleman, I am a gentleman's daughter. In that we are equals. In mind, in wit, in intelligence, we are equals, madam."

"Are you engaged to him?" the grand lady demanded.

There was a pause. "I am not."

"And for ten thousand pounds, will you promise never to enter into such an engagement?"

"I will not, and I certainly never shall," Lizzy declared. "No amount of money, or lack of it, would tempt me away from following my heart." She went to the door and opened it. "You have insulted me in every way possible. I would ask you to leave."

Lady Catherine gathered her skirts and swept out in a fit of rage. "I have never been thus treated in my entire life!" she screeched, storming out of the house. "You will rue the day, Miss Bennet!" She entered her carriage, and was gone.

All the young ladies stood stunned for a moment, and then Lizzy sagged backwards. Sam stepped forward swiftly and caught her, sitting them both down on the nearest sofa. "Well," Sam said, hugging Lizzy tightly. "That was a temper tantrum of the first order, wasn't it?"

Lizzy laughed. "Of the first circles, certainly." She leaned back against the couch. "I wonder why she thought we were engaged."

"It was probably Mr. Collins," Lydia suggested. "He probably heard something from Charlotte about you and Mr. Darcy, and told Lady Catherine."

"You may have the right of it," Lizzy said, nodding.

"Lizzy?" Kitty asked.

"Yes dear?"

"You should've taken the ten thousand pounds and then married him anyway."

They all shared a glance, and burst into laughter.

-P-

Darcy was very surprised indeed when his aunt burst into the study where he and Georgiana were reading aloud to each other. "Aunt Catherine," he said, standing up hastily and bowing.

"Send Georgiana out of the room, Darcy," she ordered, instead of greeting him. "What I have to say is not fit for her ears."

"Georgie?" Darcy murmured, worriedly.

"I'll be in the garden," Georgie said, and removed herself from the already-growing tension.

"I have just come from the home of the Bennet family," Lady Catherine said.

Darcy blanched. "Longbourn? Why?"

"I heard rumors of your engagement to a country nobody from my parson and hurried thence to investigate. And what do I find? A headstrong, prideful girl with no concept of your wealth or stature!"

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "What did you say to her, Lady Catherine?"

"I told her the truth," Lady Catherine replied haughtily. "I even offered her ten thousand pounds to give up her game. But she denied it, practically laughed in my face. She called herself your equal! The nerve."

"What exactly did she say?" Darcy demanded.

"She said that you were equals in wit, and intelligence, as if a mere uneducated country girl could compare to a university-bred man, and declared most rudely that no amount of money could tempt her away from following her heart. Her heart! I daresay she fancies herself in love with your pocketbook." Lady Catherine sniffed. "There, nephew. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Darcy started to smile. "Her heart," he repeated, grinning to himself.

"What?"

"Thank you for this information, Lady Catherine, I will act accordingly," he said, a wide smile on his face.

"When will your engagement to Anne be announced?"

Darcy left the study. "Never!" he shouted joyfully, and practically ran down the hallways.

Lady Catherine showed herself out in a fit of righteous indignation, and removed to London to complain to the Earl of Matlock, who, having heard the whole story from his second son, ignored her. "It's Darcy's business who he wants to marry, as long as she's a gentleman's daughter, and it's not like he would let anyone tell him what to do anyhow, Cathy. Go back to Rosings."

Darcy removed himself hastily to Longbourn, and when he was announced into the parlor, went directly to Elizabeth's side and knelt before her, taking one of her slender hands in his own. "Are you well, Miss Elizabeth? My aunt did not importune you too greatly?" he asked, earnestly studying her features for any hint of discomposure.

He barely noticed Sam herding the other girls out of the room.

Lizzy smiled down at her suitor. "She was very brusque, Mr. Darcy, but I am not one formed for hysterics. I am well, truly."

He kissed her hand in relief. "I am exceedingly glad."

She squeezed his hand gently, her brow furrowing with concern. "Did she come to Netherfield?" she asked.

"Yes she did." He swallowed past the nervous lump in his throat. "My conversation with my aunt led me to believe, to hope, that..." He looked into her dark eyes. "I love you, Elizabeth, most ardently. And I hope, perhaps, that you might return my affections, in some way."

Almost as if on its own, her free hand rose up and gently touched his cheek. "I do indeed, sir. You have captured my heart."

His expression was suffused with such joy, and he kissed her hand with such tenderness, that it brought tears to her eyes. "Will you be my partner in life, Elizabeth? Will you marry me?"

She raised her captured hand, and kissed his knuckles. "Yes," she whispered, and her eyes twinkled. "Nothing would bring me greater joy than to stand by your side and tease you all day long."

"I would like nothing better," he replied, his own eyes light with happiness. He stood up, and she followed suit. He cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. "May I kiss you?" he said gently.

When Sam poked her head in a minute or two later, peeking into the room behind her raised hand, she found Lizzy flushed and Darcy grinning, yet standing at a respectable distance apart. She raised an eyebrow at them.

Lizzy blushed again and laughed joyfully. "We are engaged," she declared.

"Oh I'm so happy for you!" Sam rushed to hug her dearest friend, and exchanged a hearty handshake with her soon-to-be-almost-cousin. "I am very happy for you both," she said, pleased. "And, for your information, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet is in his study, if you'd like to go to him right away."

Darcy nodded, smiled at his beloved, and made a beeline for the study - right before the parlor was filled with the rest of the Bennets, and the room exploded in squeals and laughter and congratulations.

As he knocked on the study door, Darcy felt all his nervousness coming back and he tugged at his cravat uncomfortably.

"Come in," came the voice of Mr. Bennet. As soon as he saw Darcy standing there, that earnest, nervous look on his face, he sighed. "So you've come to take my Lizzy away from me, have you?" he asked.

Darcy couldn't help a small smile. "She has consented to marry me, sir."

Mr. Bennet sighed again. "You have my blessing, of course. You are her choice, and you have shown good judgment in choosing my Lizzy over anyone else." He looked up Darcy earnestly. "Only, you won't cut us off from her, will you?"

He was shocked. "Not at all, sir. Eliz- Miss Elizabeth loves you all dearly, and I would do nothing to impede her happiness."

Mr. Bennet nodded. "Then I suppose there is nothing for it but to set a date. Would six months be short enough?" He snorted in amusement at Darcy's horrified look. "I can see that it is not. One month?"

"I would like to talk to Miss Elizabeth before making any decisions that would affect us," Darcy decided. "I will have the settlement papers for your review by the end of the week though."

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow. "Today is Thursday."

Darcy couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks. "I had my solicitor draft a copy recently," he mumbled.

His future father-in-law snickered. "I see." He waved a hand. "Go on then. I expect you to behave as a gentleman during this engagement period. I have four daughters willing to be underfoot every single second if you do not behave appropriately, you understand."

Darcy nodded in acknowledgement, and went out.

He was met with pleasure in the parlor, and everyone exclaimed over their fine new brother and their happiness over the match.

Mary, glancing at her watch, announced that if they were to talk of weddings they had to do it outside, since it was Thursday and they all really ought to be speaking in French.

Sam picked up a French scientific journal and followed Darcy and Elizabeth outside. She was quite interested in the journal, and lagged behind the newly engaged couple to allow them to converse in private. Just converse.

By the end of their walk, the wedding date had been settled for one month, and it was agreed that Darcy would ride to London this very day to begin arranging things, and come back no later than Saturday.

"Could you take a letter to my Aunt Gardiner?" Lizzy asked. "I would like her to know our news before she sees it in the papers."

Darcy smiled. When he had met them at Bingley's wedding, his reserve had fallen away at finding the Gardiners to be a well-bred couple with equally well-bred children. He'd reminisced for a long while with Mrs. Gardiner about Lambton and Pemberley and his parents, and realized that now that he was marrying Lizzy (his fiancée!) they could invite the Gardiners to Pemberley. "Of course," he said aloud.

He went back to Netherfield soon after, and instructed his valet to pack for a quick trip back to London. Then he went to find Georgiana, who was practicing absently in the music room.

She rose from the pianoforte as soon as he entered. "William!" she exclaimed anxiously. "Where have you been? What did Lady Catherine want?"

He grinned, picked up his younger sister in a bear hug, and swung her around. "Never mind her," he said, kissing his sister's forehead. "How would you like a new sister for the new year, Georgie?"

Georgiana shrieked happily and threw her arms around his neck. "Elizabeth!" she exclaimed. "You asked her!"

"Yes I did." He hugged her tightly. "She has consented to be my wife. We marry in a month." He swung her around again, exuberant in his joy as she giggled. "Now, I must go to London for the settlement papers, and," he sobered slightly and looked at her. "Would you mind, if I gave her,"

"Mother's ring?" Georgiana asked knowingly.

He nodded.

She clasped her hands together. "It would be perfect for her, William. I would like nothing less. And you must bring the emerald necklace as well! And grandmama's pearl combs for her hair! Oh, she will be lovely!" Her eyes widened. "I need a new dress for your wedding!"

Darcy had to laugh at his sister's eagerness. "When I come back, we will discuss going to London for wedding clothes. I'm sure that Elizabeth will want to go, as well." He squeezed her hand. "Will you be all right here by yourself with the Hursts?"

"Oh yes. With Miss Bingley in London, Mrs. Hurst has been very kind to me."

"Good." He gave her another hug, and departed to check the progress of his valet.

-P-

Darcy rode directly to Darcy House on Grosvenor Square, bathed, changed, had a small luncheon, and then called for his carriage. He went directly to number seventeen, Gracechurch street.

"Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Gardiner said, surprised when the gentleman was admitted to the parlour, where her two oldest children were sitting with her.

"Mrs. Gardiner," he replied, bowing. He smiled at the two children. "Master Jonathan, Miss Gardiner."

They bowed and curtsied politely, and removed to the other side of the parlour to play with a pair of toy horses.

Mrs. Gardiner was no fool, and she guessed the reason for his visit before Darcy even spoke. "Am I to wish you and my niece joy, Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

He startled, and then smiled brightly. "Yes, Mrs. Gardiner. She has made me the happiest of men." He held out the letter. "I was charged to deliver this to you right away."

She smiled. "Congratulations, Mr. Darcy. You and Elizabeth shall be very happy."

He returned her smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner." He excused himself after saying goodbye to the two younger Gardiners, and ordered his carriage to go to his uncle's house.

The Earl of Matlock Henry Fitzwilliam, his wife Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam the Countess of Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Viscount Matthew Fitzwilliam the heir to Matlock, and Col Fitzwilliam's younger sister Lady Abigail Fitzwilliam, were all at home when Darcy climbed the steps to Matlock House.

He was ushered into the family sitting room. Mother and daughter were talking about a ball for next week, the Earl and Viscount were talking about parliament, and the Col. was writing a letter. They all looked up when Darcy came in, and everyone greeted their cousin with joy.

Col. Fitzwilliam eyed his cousin suspiciously.

Darcy gave him a barely perceptible nod.

The colonel beamed and sat back in his chair, completely content.

"I have an announcement to make," Darcy said, directing himself towards his aunt and uncle. "I am engaged to be married."

"To Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Lady Eleanor said.

"Yes."

She smiled and rose to hug him. "I'm so happy for you, my dear nephew."

The Earl nodded gruffly to his nephew. "Richard has been telling us about your young lady. She seems to be a good sort who will make you happy." He didn't say anything else, except to confirm that they would be attending the wedding in one month. He was still slightly stung that Darcy had not come to him for advice on which young lady to marry, one that would increase both wealth and connections. But, as he said, she would make his nephew happy. And after losing both his parents so young, Darcy deserved all the happiness he could get.

Darcy expressed his hopes that Miss Elizabeth would come to London and he would be able to introduce her.

"Of course, dear," Lady Eleanor said, reassuring him. "In the meantime, allow us to place the announcement in the papers."

He left the Matlock house in good spirits, pleased that his family would accept Elizabeth.

-P-

The next day, Caroline was enjoying breakfast and reading the papers, when she came upon the announcements. "Earl and Countess of Matlock are pleased to announce the betrothal of their nephew Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire."

She let out such a shriek of rage and despair that her hired companion flinched. The companion flinched again when Caroline's teacup, saucer, plate, and knife were hurled into the opposite wall, one after the other. "He was supposed to be mine!" Caroline screeched, and stalked out.

There was the sound of objects crashing.

The companion wisely chose to stay and finish her breakfast.

-P-


	9. Chapter 9

The two days that Darcy was gone were agony for Lizzy. She spent her time wandering the paths outside, and looking out of windows. They had been productive, however. Mama and Sam had been planning the wedding - the matron would decide the biggest and best and most ostentatious thing would be needed, and Sam would convince her to tone it down to something tasteful and elegant that the Countess of Matlock would approve of. Lizzy herself only had to make the final decision and approve everything, leaving her free to ramble and escape the house as much as she liked.

"Elizabeth?"

The deep voice made Lizzy whirl around, and she blushed and smiled when she saw Darcy staring at her with his heart in his eyes. "Mr. Darcy, sir," she said, curtsying.

He moved forward and took her hands in his, bringing them up to his chest. "Won't you call me William, dearest?" he asked.

"William," she whispered.

He bent his head and kissed her tenderly. "I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you dreadfully," she admitted in reply, and smiled at him. "Are we terribly foolish?"

"No more so than Bingley and your sister," he replied, imperturbable.

She laughed lightly and stepped back, holding out her hands for Darcy to follow. He did, drawn like a magnet to her side. They fell into step as they wandered back to Longbourn. "When did you get back?" she asked.

"Just half an hour ago," he replied. "I'd hoped to find you out of the house."

"Why?"

He reached into his coat pocket. "So I could give you this."

She stared at the ring in his hand. It was a gold band, dainty settings containing a perfect diamond surrounded by smaller rubies and diamonds. "Oh," she breathed. "It's beautiful."

He took her hand, and slid it onto her ring finger. "It was my mother's," he said. "Georgie and I wanted you to wear it." He kissed her hand. "My mother would have loved you."

"I wish I could have met her," Lizzy said, and for a moment they were both silent. She smiled up at her fiancé. "It's beautiful, William, truly. I shall treasure it."

He smiled at her. "My wife deserves no less."

They walked back to Longbourn, and wedding plans were discussed. It was agreed that Darcy would escort Lizzy, Sam, and Mary along with his sister to London at the end of the week. The girls would stay with the Gardiners and Mrs. Gardiner would be in charge of the wedding clothes and overseeing Lizzy's new wardrobe for Derbyshire. Before he left, Darcy spoke to Mr. Bennet privately, and asked to be given the privilege of handling Elizabeth's expenses in town. "As my wife, she will be required to have an extensive wardrobe, and I would not have anyone else suffer the cost of it," he said. "Would you allow me..."

"Yes, yes, of course young man," Mr. Bennet said, waving at him. "If you want to hear of patterns and lace for the next solid week, you may go right ahead."

"Thank you sir." Darcy left Longbourn, content that his future wife would have everything she needed and wanted.

The end of the week came quickly, and the party bound for London departed in the Darcy carriage, roomy and big enough for all of them. They got caught up in a discussion of Shakespeare, and it lasted them all the way to London.

The Gardiners welcomed back their girls, and Darcy and his sister went on to Grosvenor square.

The week passed in a blur of shopping, fittings, dinners, teas, and society outings. Darcy introduced Lizzy and her family to the Earl and Countess. Lizzy won them over straightaway with her charm and vivacity, and before Darcy left, his aunt pulled him aside. "She will do very well for you William, very well indeed," she said quietly, and gave him a hug.

Sam was slightly disappointed that she didn't see Colonel Fitzwilliam at all that week. The next day when the Darcys came for tea, Georgie explained that he had gone to Matlock to oversee some things for his father, but he would be at Netherfield for the wedding. "Good," Sam said softly. "Mr. Darcy would be disappointed if he were not there."

Georgiana frowned, and gave her a hug. "Won't you come to Pemberley with us, Sam?" she asked impulsively.

"Come to... I'm sure they wouldn't want visitors so soon after their marriage," Sam said, blushing.

"But I don't want to be all by myself," Georgie explained. "Mrs. Annesley is leaving after they get back from their wedding trip and I will be so lonely while they are besotted with each other. But I'd much rather be at Pemberley than at Matlock." She sighed dramatically. "Won't you come to Pemberley with us, Sam? We will have such fun."

Sam noticed that everyone in the drawing room was watching them, and bit her lip. "I think you'll have to ask your brother, first, Georgie. And I will have to ask Mr. Bennet for permission as well."

Georgiana noticed everyone's eyes upon them, and blushed scarlet. "Please say she can come, brother," she said, clasping her hands together.

Darcy and Lizzy exchanged a glance, and they both smiled. "We would be delighted to have you join us, Miss Langford," Darcy said.

"I will ask papa the second we return home tomorrow," Lizzy added.

Sam smiled and hugged Georgie. "Then I will be very glad to join you."

Later that night as the girls gathered in Lizzy and Sam's room to chat, Sam suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Mary asked, concerned.

Sam shook her head. "I just realized. Stupid, stupid brain. I can't go to Pemberley with you, Lizzy."

"What? Why not?" Lizzy asked, frowning.

"If I go to Pemberley, I'm going to have to tell them where I'm from," Sam said meaningfully. The other girls' eyes widened. They'd almost forgotten Sam was from the future. Sam continued speaking, distracted. "The more time they spend with me, and if anyone sees my phone, they're going to realize I kept the truth from them, and I don't want you to start your marriage with my problems."

Lizzy took Sam's hands in hers. "We will tell him and Georgiana the truth once we get back to Longbourn tomorrow. We will know then, how to proceed."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean, how to proceed?"

"If he cannot accept you-" Lizzy's voice broke. "I am not sure I would wish to-"

"No," Sam declared vehemently. "Mr. Darcy is the best of men in this century, and probably any other. He might not like that I kept the truth from them but I'm sure he will see reason. And even if he doesn't, you are not going to give up your happiness for me, Lizzy. I'm going to be perfectly fine no matter what happens. So you, dearest, have to think of yourself, and only yourself."

"Sam-"

"No, Lizzy. I'm putting my stubborn American foot down. I will cut myself off from you if I think it will do any good."

Mary hugged herself uncertainly. "Please, let's not be hasty. Can we not be optimistic? Mr. Darcy and Georgiana are both sensible."

The two older girls promised to not go down the road of might-have-been's, and they all went to bed. Mary refused to go to her own chambers, preferring to cuddle with her sister and her cousin, and Mrs. Gardiner smiled in the morning, when she came to wake up her nieces.

-P-

The trip back to Longbourn was tense, as Sam tried to keep from blurting everything out in the carriage, and Mary and Lizzy tried to give off an unaffected air. Both Darcy and Georgie picked up on it, however, and remained worried. Mrs. Annesley was a lifesaver, and kept the conversation going on light topics until they reached Longbourn.

The carriage dropped off Miss Langford and the Bennets, and continued on to Netherfield. The Darcy siblings bathed and changed for dinner, and returned to Longbourn as promised earlier, hopeful that the tension from earlier would be dissipated. Instead, it had spread to Mr. Bennet, and he immediately invited them to come into the study while they waited for dinner. Sam and Lizzy followed.

"What is this about?" Darcy asked cautiously.

Mr. Bennet glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head and stepped forward. She took a deep breath. "We felt that it was important that you know my full circumstances before you invited me to join you at Pemberley. I am sorry I didn't tell you earlier but, it's not the sort of thing one can speak of lightly."

Darcy's countenance grew grave. He could only hope that she was not the natural daughter of someone closely known to him. "Miss Langford, I assure you that whatever the circumstances of your family history-"

"I'm from the future," she said, interrupting him. "The year 2016. I was born in 1998, in Portland, Oregon, the United States of America."

Darcy's jaw dropped, and he stared at her, open-mouthed. Georgie was doing a similar impression of a guppy fish beside him. "How can this be?" he asked, pulling himself together. He looked at Elizabeth, his eyes demanding answers.

She nodded. "Tis true, Mr. Darcy. Jane and I encountered her as we were walking in the woods. She believed herself still to be in America, and wore the fashions of the day."

"I cannot believe it," Darcy said, shaking his head.

Sam straightened her shoulders, and pulled out her phone. "Maybe this will convince you, then." She showed them the phone, its camera function, and let him and Georgiana scroll through the pictures of her former life, dressed in jeans and sweaters, and watch the several home movies she had recorded on the phone since then.

"You really are from the future," Darcy said, after a long silence. "How did you get here?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't know. I highly doubt I will ever know."

Georgiana gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you were found by Lizzy and Jane. I would have been so frightened had that happened to me."

Sam returned the hug with equal fervor. "Trust me, Georgiana, I was quite terrified for the first few weeks, at least." She smiled fondly at the Bennets. "The Bennets saved my life. They taught me to behave like a lady of the present times, put up with my outlandish predictions, and gave me a hope for my future. Most of the time I forget that we're not actually related."

"Who knows, we very well may be related," Lizzy said loyally, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders. She looked at her fiancé. "Well, Mr. Darcy?"

He looked down at the phone in his hands, and looked up at the young women waiting for his judgement. "I am pleased you trusted us enough to confide in us, Miss Langford, and I promise that we will keep your secret." He smiled slightly. "I would not presume to rescind your invitation to Pemberley."

Sam released a deep sigh. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

He gave her a kind smile.

"Now that everyone is satisfied, you may leave," Mr. Bennet announced, holding up the new copy of an Italian treatise.

"Yes papa." Lizzy led the group out of the study, and led her fiancé to the garden. Sam and Georgie rolled their eyes and followed.

-P-

The Bingleys came back from their honeymoon a week later. Jane and Bingley were overjoyed that Darcy and Elizabeth were to be married, and Jane entered whole-heartedly into the wedding affairs. Bingley was ecstatic that he and Darcy were to be brothers.

The last week before the wedding seemed interminable to the engaged couple, but finally, it was the day.

The night before, all the girls, including Jane, had stayed at Longbourn and spent the night talking and laughing, cherishing the last night of Elizabeth Bennet's singleness.

The morning of her wedding, Lizzy fairly glowed as her sisters and her friends helped her dress, arranged her hair, and teased her gently. Sam brought out some very discreet cosmetics from her purse, and lightly highlighted Elizabeth's eyes and cheekbones, and the pout of her lips.

"Beautiful," Jane said fondly, kissing her sister lightly on the temple, careful not to disturb her hair.

"My brother's going to die of happiness when he sees you, Lizzy," Georgiana sighed.

Sam giggled. "I hope not, Georgie, then all of this preparation would have been for naught."

They all giggled at that.

"Oh girls, girls! We must get to the church on time!"

They were all hustled downstairs, and to the church. Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia kissed their sister and went to sit down. Sam took her place in front of Lizzy and Mr. Bennet, and started to walk down the aisle when the music smiled. She smiled at the assembled friends and family, and as she walked to the front of the church, she smirked as Mr. Darcy's gaze went straight to Elizabeth and stayed there the entire time.

Sam herself, pointedly did not look at Col Fitzwilliam, who was standing as Darcy's best man. She smiled at a clearly oblivious Darcy and Elizabeth, who she was certain didn't hear a word of the ceremony until their respective "I do".

The ceremony over, relatives and friends flocked to congratulate the new couple. Sam kissed Lizzy on the cheek, and shook Darcy's hand warmly, and then ceded her place to others. She drifted to the edge of the crowd, and smiled at the world in general as they all made their way to Netherfield for the wedding breakfast.

"Miss Langford," said a familiar voice.

She looked up at Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Colonel," she said evenly.

"It was an elegant ceremony," the Colonel said, after a minute.

"It was." She picked at the seam on her glove, and kept walking. The tension was getting awkward and she couldn't find it in herself to be calm. "Excuse me, Colonel, I have to double check some things." She slipped through the crowd.

He scowled after her.

"Crossed in love, are we?" the Countess of Matlock asked, moving to stand with her son.

He offered her his arm absently. "Hardly, mother," he said stiffly.

"Miss Langford is a lovely intelligent woman," Lady Eleanor continued. "I was quite impressed with her manners and her way of encouraging Georgiana to participate in the conversation. Between she and our new Mrs. Darcy, Georgie will be very well looked after." She felt, rather than saw, Col Fitzwilliam's flinch. "Do you disapprove of Miss Langford, Richard?"

"Not at all," he said vehemently. "Miss Langford is beautiful, witty and outgoing, and she speaks her mind, and-" he cleared her throat. "She's fine. Georgiana is fortunate to have her and Mrs. Darcy as close friends."

Lady Eleanor gave him a curious side-eye and commented, "Then it is a good thing Miss Langford is going with Georgiana to Pemberley for the next three months."

He stiffened. "I didn't know that, mother."

"Of course not. You were too busy staring out the window like your taciturn cousin. Even Darcy spoke more than you these last few days."

"Mother, please," Fitzwilliam said, giving her a stern look. "I don't wish to discuss it."

"All right dear." She patted his arm and calmly changed the subject. The ceasefire on the conversation did not stop her from observing both her son and Miss Langford throughout the course of the morning. She of course noticed their attempts to not stare at each other.

-P-

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy departed for Ireland on their wedding trip, and Georgiana and Sam traveled with Mrs. Annesley to Pemberley. Sam was delighted by the wilds of Derbyshire, and Georgiana promised to teach her to ride so that they could explore all the grounds and the parks.

"Oh, I know how to ride," Sam assured her, and then frowned. "Wait. Never mind. I don't know how to ride sidesaddle. Isn't it really uncomfortable?"

Georgie giggled.

-P-

They arrived at Pemberley. Sam was awed by the grandeur of the house and the grounds, and almost wandered directly out to the stream before Georgiana hauled her back to the main steps.

"You're a princess," Sam said, shaking her head, "and you live in a castle, and I bet you have dungeons, don't you? Or a dragon?" She gasped suspiciously. "You have a dragon," she said accusingly.

Both her companions laughed at her, and they all entered the house with smiles. "Mrs. Reynolds," Georgie said, hugging the older woman, "this is my best friend, Miss Langford. Sam, the woman who takes care of us, Mrs. Reynolds."

"A pleasure to meet you," Sam said, smiling.

"Likewise, Miss Langford," Mrs. Reynolds said. She ushered them up to their rooms in a motherly manner, and showed Sam her rooms - they were in the family quarters, right across from Georgie's. "I hope these are to your liking."

Sam shook her head in awe, staring at the pale blue walls and the white trim, and the dark wood furniture, the huge four-poster bed with the dusky pink curtains. "These are the most beautiful rooms I've ever seen," she said. "Wowww..."

Mrs. Reynolds smiled. "I'm glad you like them. I'll have Annie draw you a bath."

After a bath and a change of clothes, Sam and Georgie reconvened in the private drawing room off the family wing. Mrs. Reynolds personally brought them a light supper, and they chatted to her about the wedding, and Georgie told Mrs. Reynolds about Sam, and then the housekeeper left them to their own devices.

As soon as Mrs. Reynolds closed the door, Georgie looked at Sam eagerly. "Can you tell me about the future?"

Sam told her tales of high school, college, the wage gap, the shopping malls, cars, trains, cell phones, and internet. She let Georgie listen to all the music on her phone, and they discussed changes in instruments and music. By the time they retired for the night, Georgie was practically starry-eyed from wonder.

The next morning Georgie gave Sam a tour of Pemberley. They spent all day wandering the hallways and the rooms, and Sam nearly died of delight when they entered the library. "Oooh, I don't know if Lizzy's ever going to leave this place once she sees all these books." She touched the spines of the nearest books. "I might never leave this place..."

"I'll tell Mrs. Reynolds to send your meals to you on a tray," Georgie teased.

They soon settled into a routine. In the mornings Sam would sit in on Georgie's lessons with Mrs. Annesley, and then in the afternoons they would pick something to do. Then the three of them would have a cozy dinner, and spend the evening reading, playing music, or playing hide-and-seek, much to Mrs. Reynolds' amusement when she caught them at it.

Sam was especially amused by the plumbing and toilet facilities of Pemberley. "These are my designs," she informed Georgiana, as they were rinsing out their screens to start over again. "I'm glad to see that whoever updated the plumbing did it properly."

Georgiana stared at her. "You invented the shower-bath?"

"Indeed I did. My pseudonym's on the patent."

Georgie's estimation of her went up another notch, and she asked if Sam could design a bath that would be like a waterfall. Sam took the commission, most cheerfully, and built a prototype for her. The chambermaids liked it for the laundry, and it was installed in the laundry rooms. Sam sent the patent idea to Mr. Bennet, who sent it to Mr. Phillips, who filed it with her original patent.

-P-


	10. Chapter 10

A month afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy arrived at Pemberley. It was a grand welcome from Pemberley's staff, and enthusiastic hugs from Georgie and Sam.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy," Mr. Darcy said quietly, pressing a loving kiss to his wife's hand as they crossed the threshold.

He took great pleasure in giving his wife a tour of Pemberley, and they were practically absent from everyone's lives for another fortnight as Darcy showed his wife all the best walks on the grounds.

After that however, business could be ignored no longer and Darcy spent the majority of his days in his study or out with his steward on the farms. Lizzy, under Mrs. Reynolds kind guidance and with Georgie and Sam's help, adjusted to overseeing a household the size of Pemberley, with its dozens of servants, and dozens of tenant families.

Now that the master and mistress were back and firmly installed in Pemberley, the grand old place seemed to come alive again. Mrs. Reynolds privately confided in Sam that there hadn't been this much laughter, music, and good spirits since George and Anne Darcy had been alive and in love twenty years past.

-P-

Two months afterwards, Georgie and Lizzy determined on going to Lambton for new walking boots and gloves. "Will you join us, Sam?" Lizzy asked. "You surely need new boots after tramping all the way out to Widow Terant's place in the mud."

Sam shook her head. "They're still good. I will join you for the outing though, maybe see if they've got the latest engineering periodicals from London."

Both her companions rolled their eyes at her idiosyncrasies. Georgie and Sam ran out to get letters that they would post directly from Lambton, and Lizzy stayed behind to kiss her husband goodbye.

Darcy accepted the kiss with pleasure, and held her hands captive, kissing them gently. "Elizabeth, my dear," he started hesitantly.

"Yes my love?" she asked, smiling at him. Her smile faded as she caught onto his serious expression. "What is it?"

"Miss Langford," he said. "Does she need new boots?"

"If she said not then it must be so."

He frowned. "But, I never asked, what is her financial situation? Does she receive an allowance from your father? Does she need pocket money? Is she restricting her purchases because of it?"

Lizzy frowned in return. "She has the patent on the shower, she gets her allowance from that."

"Patent?" Darcy asked.

"Yes." Lizzy sighed. "You'll have to ask Sam directly, as I don't remember having been privy to the details." She frowned again. "I hope she hasn't been needing anything and not telling anyone."

He kissed the pout off her lips. "I will talk to her when you three return from Lambton. Have a good time."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

"Mrs. Darcy."

-P-

Sam did indeed find the new engineering journal in the village, and as soon as she entered Pemberley made a beeline for the library. She curled up on a comfortable settee, and started to page through it. This was valuable research for the book she was writing; she was almost done with it but she still needed some facts...

"Miss Langford."

Darcy's grave voice startled her and she let out an 'eep' before subsiding into the settee again. "Dude, freak me out again and I'm gonna buy you a bell for your six-month anniversary."

He smirked at that, and seated himself across from her in a chair. "I apologize. I wanted to talk to you, Miss Langford."

"Sure. What's up?" She put the journal down and faced him expectantly.

"You are from the future," he started, suddenly unsure of how to ask after a woman's financial situation without sounding crass.

"Yes..." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"So you will not mind if I am blunt."

"No..." Her eyes widened. "Do you want me to leave Pemberley? I knew I was intruding on your family time, I'm sorry. I can go back to Longbourn directly, if you wish-"

"No, no, that's not it at all," he said, motioning her back to her seat. "No. What I mean to ask is, what is the source of your income? Your financial situation?"

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes lit with understanding. "You mean like, money-wise, do I have a dowry, do I have an allowance, and so on?"

"Yes, precisely," he said, relieved.

"Oh. Well that's simple. Yes I do." She opened her journal again. "You don't have to worry about me," she said, "I think I've got enough to live on if you get tired of me."

He sighed. "That is not reassuring in the slightest, Miss Langford. Please tell me frankly, and specifically, what your yearly income is."

"Four thousand pounds a year, I think," she replied. "With the new patent, which in the last issue of Le Belle Assemblee two weeks ago was all the rage, I think that'll be another thousand a year added. I've been giving myself an allowance the same size of Mary and Kitty and Lydia's, to be fair, and just increased it a bit so I can buy nice things so I won't embarrass you all if we ever go out, but most of it's just staying invested, and I'm getting a three percent return on all of it, that's..." she paused, doing the math in her head, and nodded decisively. "I've got, by the end of the year, what, like 18 thousand pounds?"

Darcy's jaw was literally hanging open, and he forced himself to close it. "You have the same income as Bingley," he said.

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh yeah. Hm. I'm middle-class. I never thought about it like that." She grinned. "Cool. Now I can travel. I can do things."

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Are you saying you never thought about it before?"

"No," she replied blithely. "I mean I knew that I had the money, obviously, but I was at Longbourn with the girls and I was so busy trying to learn all the accomplishments and remembering not to complain about the lack of air conditioning and trying not to use slang and cultural references in my speech, and then chaperoning you all and then the weddings, and then here with Georgie, no I never really thought about it." She straightened up. "But now that I have, what do you suggest I invest in?"

They had a long talk about investments and returns, and Darcy was convinced that she could soon increase her yearly income to seven thousand through some shrewd investments. Which would put her in the status of very Nouveau Riche, very young, with good connections, and very eligible.

He groaned when he realized this. As if taking care of Georgiana's potential suitors wasn't enough, Sam was going to cause quite a splash when they went to London for the season.

"Darling?" Lizzy asked cautiously. It was after supper and the newlyweds were enjoying a quiet cuddle and read in their private sitting room. "Are you well?"

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "I am well. I am only realizing that our friend Miss Langford is going to be beating off suitors with a stick once we go to London. I am not looking forward to it."

Lizzy tilted her head up and kissed his jaw. "Just because she is with us does not mean you need to assume responsibility for her."

"She has no one else," he replied.

She leaned up a bit and kissed him on the mouth. "My knight in shining armor," she murmured.

This gave way to a few more kisses.

Suddenly Lizzy drew back. "Colonel Fitzwilliam," she said suddenly.

Darcy scowled. "That's who you think of right now?" he growled mock-jealously.

"No, no, my love, I meant, for Sam." She beamed up at him. "There is nothing to stand in their way now. She has almost as much as any other heiress."

That set Darcy's mind turning. There wouldn't be any harm, he supposed, in inviting his closest cousin to come to Pemberley for a visit. "I shall send him an invitation tomorrow," he decided, "but for now, let's forget about everyone else."

She smirked. "Yes dear."

-P-

Colonel Fitzwilliam politely declined the offer of coming to Pemberley, stating some vague reason of business.

Darcy sent him back a letter telling him that Sam was at Pemberley and had very good prospects for a single young man.

Col Fitzwilliam sent back an angry letter informing his cousin that he would not take charity from his family just so that he could pursue a young lady he might find suitable.

Darcy sent him a letter calling him a prime dunderhead.

There was no response.

-P-

Sam finished her book about the future of modern engineering, predicting the full rise of the Industrial Revolution, and sent the manuscript to Mr. Bennet to read. He read it, made notes on it, and sent it back. Sam revised the treatise, and gave Darcy the finished manuscript to read. "Tell me what you think," she requested.

He read it by the end of the day, and convinced her to let him send it to a publisher he knew in London.

First, Sam sent it to Mr. Gardiner to review. He proposed sending it to the same publisher Darcy had recommended. So, "A Deduction of Future Mechanics" by Samuel Langford was published in 1812. It was a hit among the engineering community.

Mr. Gardiner kept all the reviews and critiques published about the book, and sent them on to Sam. She, Georgie, and Lizzy read the reviews eagerly.

"Inconceivable!" Sam repeated indignantly, reading the latest review from a sourpot reader. "I don't think he even knows the meaning of the word! It is not inconceivable! It's gonna happen!"

Lizzy patted her head consolingly. "Time will prove him wrong, Sam."

Sam huffed, but stuck the review into her scrapbook anyways.

-P-

They spent the winter nicely curled up in Pemberley as the harsh north winter blew and settled around them. The Gardiners and the Bingleys came for Christmas and stayed for a week and a half afterwards. Pemberley hadn't heard that much laughter in ages...

-P-

In February, Sam got a letter from Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas, inviting her to Hunsford in March. "You're my only friend left that's not married and I desperately need someone normal to talk to," was basically the entire reason.

Sam took the idea to Lizzy. "Should I go?" she asked. "I really don't want to hang out with Mr. Collins for three weeks though. He's just, ughhh..."

"Not to mention Lady Catherine will have your head on a platter if you outright defy her," Mr. Darcy added, entering the room.

"Are you so severe on your own relations, Mr. Darcy?" Lizzy asked archly, her eyes twinkling.

He kissed her lightly, knowing Sam wouldn't mind the display. "Considering that she sent me a two-page letter spewing invective at my future wife and refused to recognize me as her nephew, yes I dare say I am," he replied placidly.

Sam's eyes widened. "I don't think I wanna go."

Darcy chuckled. "That is what Richard and I say every year and we end up going." He glanced at his wife and frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think we will be invited to Rosings this year, however."

Sam read the letter again. She did feel kind of bad for Charlotte. She sighed. "All right. I guess I can bite my tongue for three weeks. Maria and Sir William will be there, so I guess it'll be fine."

Lizzy placed her hands on Sam's shoulders. "I believe in you, Samantha," she intoned solemnly.

The two women burst into laughter, and Darcy just chuckled.

-P-

March came, and Sam was off to Hunsford. She went in the Darcy carriage, with a maid and a footman, and it was a good trip. She arrived about an hour before the Lucases arrived, and was met by Charlotte with joy and hugs, and by Mr. Collins with suspicious eyes and yet a very obsequious manner due to her position as the Darcy's particular friend. He didn't quite know what to make of her.

Sam channeled all her inner Jane-goodness, and made it through the first day. She admired Charlotte's ability to manage her husband, and the guest room really was quite comfortable. Three weeks wouldn't be too terrible.

-P-

Dear Richard,

As Mrs. Darcy and myself are not welcome at Rosings, I entrust you with its care this Easter visit. Please give cousin Anne our regards and do try not to be too irritating in company.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

The trio of Darcy's looked at each other. "Will they resent us for throwing them together?" Georgie asked, worried.

Lizzy shrugged. "Not for very long, I hope."

Darcy gave the letter to the footman and ordered it sent express.

-P-

"My dear, my dear, I have just heard the greatest news, from Lady Catherine herself!" Mr. Collins burst into the main parlor, huffing and panting mightily.

"What news?" Charlotte asked.

"Her esteemed nephew is coming to visit her, as he does faithfully every year," Collins gasped. "We have been invited to attend dinner on Tuesday, the very day after he arrives."

Sam grinned. So William and Lizzy were coming after all. Poor Georgie, all alone at Pemberley. Unless she'd come too. At least I'm not going to be staying in the main house, she thought with a sigh of relief.

"Dinner with Lady Catherine?" poor Maria asked, her eyes widening and her face paling.

Sam laughed kindly at her reaction. "She's not going to eat you, dear."

"Of course not my dear sister," Collins said, patting Maria on the head like a small child. "Lady Catherine is replete with condescension and civility."

Sam and Charlotte shared a glance.

-P-

Tuesday came when it usually arrived, six days after Wednesday, and the Husnford party arrayed themselves with all haste.

Sam was wearing her favorite dress, a deep burgundy-colored dress with modest lace trim, her hair done up in a nice braided bun. If she was going to her inquisition and subsequent torture at the stake for being a heathen American, she would be comfy and confident doing so. She grinned to herself as they walked across the lawn to Rosings, imagining Darcy trying to restrain his aunt from insulting his wife.

Lady Catherine was exactly what she'd remembered. Regal, forbidding, the monarch of the kingdom of her own making. "You are Samantha Langford, the American," Lady Catherine stated.

"Yes ma'am," Sam replied demurely.

"Hmph. You're a pretty-ish sort of girl, but I highly doubt you were raised properly." A scrutinizing glare. "Do you play or sing?"

"Yes ma'am, both."

"Hm. Do you draw?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well?"

"The London master we studied with last summer thought so, ma'am," Sam couldn't resist saying.

Charlotte sighed beside her.

Sam bit her tongue and affected a humble air.

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed but she continued, "And what languages do you speak?"

"Spanish, French, Italian, and some German." Sam couldn't resist. "And English, of course."

Lady Catherine raised an eyebrow. "We shall see. Your accent is abominable."

"I am American," Sam reminded her.

"Hmph. That will of course affect your prospects. You will never truly marry well unless you speak proper King's English." Lady Catherine nodded once, decisively. "You will play for us after dinner and we shall see."

Sam opened her mouth to retort, saw Charlotte's expression of muted horror, and subsided with a mental sigh.

The door swung open, and the other inhabitants of Rosings walked in. Anne de Bourgh, a pale, sickly creature that desperately needed freedom and sunshine, Mrs. Jenkinson, a fussy, meek woman, and- Colonel Fitzwilliam. He walked in, saw Sam, and stopped in his tracks.

She stared at him, shocked, and then turned to greet Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson as they were introduced.

"And this is my nephew Colonel Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine continued.

"We met the Colonel in Hertfordshire," Sir William said jovially. "How do you do, sir?"

"Very well thank you Sir William. Miss Lucas. Mrs. Collins, Mr. Collins. Miss Langford." He bowed over her hand.

"Colonel," was all Sam said. She couldn't believe Lizzy hadn't said anything about him being here. But no. It was fine. It was cool. They were just friends, nothing more, maybe even less than friends. Acquaintances. Be chill, she told herself. She'd need all her wits to fend off Lady Catherine.

Dinner was, frankly, ridiculous. Mr. Collins praised and ate, and Sir William ate and praised, Maria sat there like a lump on a log, Charlotte sat there like an I-did-this-to-myself lump on a log, Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson murmured amongst themselves, Colonel Fitzwilliam stared silently at his plate, and Sam was interrogated by Lady Catherine.

"And how did your parents leave you?" Lady Catherine asked, around the second course.

Colonel Fitzwilliam finally interrupted, a pained look on his face. "Aunt, please, that's hardly a topic for dinner-"

"Don't interrupt me Fitzwilliam," his aunt retorted.

Sam swallowed a growl and said, "They died in a carriage accident."

"Hm. How careless of them. And I suppose your dowry is non-existent."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "It's modest, but I have one."

"Hm. You won't marry well in any case, but you must marry as soon as possible. One cannot live with friends forever."

Sam lost it. "On the contrary, I have four thousand a year income. I don't need to marry anybody, ever, if I don't want to. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Everyone's jaws dropped. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Well," Lady Catherine sniffed. "There's no call for rudeness young lady. You will never marry well if..."

Sam tuned her out and focused on the food. At least this was good quality...

After dinner, they forwent the separation of the sexes, and Colonel Fitzwilliam escorted Sam and his cousin Anne into the parlor.

"Play for us, Miss Langford," Lady Catherine commanded.

Sam went to the piano and started to play the first thing that was on there, a piece by Beethoven. She let herself fall into the rhythm of the music, and barely even noticed when Colonel Fitzwilliam wandered over to the piano.

"You play wonderfully," he said quietly.

She glanced up at him and gave him a small grin. "Georgiana's tutoring paid off."

"How are my cousins?" he asked.

"They're all in excellent health. I've never seen Lizzy happier." Sam smiled softly. "And Mrs. Reynolds tells me she's never seen either William or Georgie happier, either."

He grinned at her. "I'm exceedingly glad for that."

She focused on the next passage to get the timing just right. When she glanced up again, he was still smiling at her. "What?" she asked.

"Hm? Nothing. Nothing."

Lady Catherine interrupted. "What are you speaking of?" she asked. "I must have my share of the conversation."

"We were speaking of music, madam," Fitzwilliam said.

Sam zoned out the rest of the evening. Really the only thing that stuck out was when Colonel Fitzwilliam kissed her hand in farewell.

"Only two more weeks," she muttered as she got ready for bed.

-P-


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and Sam went for a walk as soon as she'd gotten dressed. It was a beautiful day, and she felt her spirits lifting.

She took deep breaths, laughed, ran, and skipped in the brisk Spring air, and completely forgot about the insane dinner. She finally calmed down, and strolled back into the grove. She turned a tree, and there was Colonel Fitzwilliam walking towards her. "Oh," she said, shocked, wondering if he'd seen her running around like a crazy lady.

He bowed. "Miss Langford, good morning."

She curtsied hastily. "Good morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Fine day, isn't it?"

"Yes it is." He hesitated, and then went forward. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday-"

She waved a hand airily. "Trust me, I'm over it," she declared. "It's almost funny, even."

"You're very gracious," he said.

"No, just easily amused," she said, smirking.

He gestured to the path. "May I walk with you, Miss Langford?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just come from that direction?"

He cleared his throat. "I wouldn't mind walking it again with you."

She took his arm, and they walked up the path. She followed a butterfly with her eyes, and smiled. Lady Catherine couldn't order that creature around. Fly little guy, fly!

"Miss Langford," Fitzwilliam said suddenly.

Sam looked up at him, startled out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

"I was actually walking out to meet you," he said.

She blinked. "Now?"

"Yes," he said stiffly.

"Oh." She cleared her throat. Was he bored, with only Lady Catherine and Anne for company? "We can go to the Parsonage," she offered. "I'm sure Charlotte and Maria would love to chat-"

"No, thank you," he interrupted awkwardly.

She frowned. "Okay then."

They kept walking and he cleared his throat again. "Miss Langford," he said. "Before, when we, at Longbourn, before Darcy got married,"

When you ran away from me? she thought, but didn't say it out loud. That was a little too catty. "I remember," she said.

"Will you marry me?" he blurted.

She stopped in her tracks and pulled away to face him. "What."

"I think we could be happy together," he said, his posture stiff as a board, his hands firmly behind his back. "And, there are not many other ladies who, tolerate me, like you do. I, am not an eloquent man, I'm not like Darcy, I'm too much of a soldier, but I am sincere."

She frowned. "What changed your mind about me?" she asked, a terrible notion forming in her head. Please don't say-

"I don't have much of an income," he said, "and when you mentioned your four thousand pounds a year last night-"

Her jaw dropped, righteous indignation bursting forth. "You ran away from me in the first place because you thought I was poor, and now that your aunt got all the details from me, now you think I'll make you happy because I have money?"

"Well yes, we must have something to live on, and even though it's not much it is good enough for me-"

Her eyes started to sting with tears, but she forced them back with anger. "And me?" she asked. "Is my money the only thing good enough for you?" She threw her hands up in the air. "I'm so done with all of you." She turned on her heel and started walking back to the parsonage. Or rather, stomping.

He trailed after her, his longer legs letting him reach her easily. "No, Samantha, wait-"

She pulled away from him, trying not to burst into tears. "Don't touch me. And it's Miss Langford to you, Colonel. I may be American but I'm not a savage." She picked up her skirts an inch and started running.

He didn't follow her.

She ran all the way to the parsonage, and rushed inside before Mr. Collins could see her.

"Samantha?" Charlotte asked, eyeing her red cheeks and teary eyes with concern. "What's the matter?"

She shook her head, unable to speak. "I want to go back to Pemberley," she muttered, hugging her friend.

Charlotte hugged her, bemused. "What happened?" she asked.

"The colonel, asked me to marry him," Samantha said, tugging away and wiping her eyes.

"That's wonderful," Charlotte said. "Isn't it?"

"No!" Sam said, resisting the urge to bawl like a child. "The only reason he did it is because of my money. That's not wonderful at all."

Charlotte sighed. "Sam... Samantha, you cannot be a romantic all your life."

"I'm not being romantic!" Sam protested, waving her arms. "I'm just being an intelligent human being! I don't wanna spend my life with someone who only likes me cuz of my money! He wouldn't even look at me before! Apparently I wasn't good enough for him! I want to marry someone who loves me."

"Doesn't he though?" Charlotte asked hopefully.

Sam shook her head. "He didn't say anything about it at all. Just, my four thousand pounds a year." She slumped into the kitchen chair. "Not to be dramatic, but I don't want to see anybody from Rosings ever again." She sighed. "I don't want to make everything awkward for you, I'm sorry."

Charlotte rubbed her back reassuringly. "You can go back to Pemberley when my father leaves in a week. He can take you as far as Longbourn."

"That'd be wonderful," Sam said gratefully.

Now to make it one entire week without seeing anyone from Rosings...

-P-

The Colonel stormed into Rosings, and stomped upstairs.

Anne met him at the top of the stairs. "What on earth is the matter, Richard?" she asked.

"Nothing!" he barked, moving past her and going into his rooms. He closed the door heavily, and threw his jacket off. How had everything gone so wrong?

There was a soft tap at the door. "Richard." It was Anne. "Cousin, if you don't let me in, I will tell mother that you're upset."

He huffed and yanked the door open. "That is a lowly trick, Anne."

"It is all I have," she replied, entering his sitting room. "What's wrong? Is it your father? Pemberley? Are you being recalled to the War Office?"

He shook his head. "Worse. The woman I love rejected me."

She gasped. "Is it Miss Langford?" she asked. "It is, isn't it?"

He nodded glumly and put his head in his hands. "I ruined it with my big mouth," he lamented. "She thinks I'm the worst kind of fortune hunter."

Anne frowned. "How did you do that?"

He sighed, and explained everything, from the first time he'd met her until the moment she ran away from him.

"You are an idiot," Anne declared, after a second.

He huffed. "Thank you, Anne, that's very helpful."

"What? I have no experience in these matters. You're just going to have to explain it to her somehow."

"She doesn't want to speak to me."

"Then write her a letter."

He frowned at her. "I can't do that! If anyone found it, her reputation would be ruined."

"You'd have what you want."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Samantha would rather go up against Bonaparte with a butter knife before doing something she doesn't want to do."

"Try to talk to her tomorrow," Anne suggested.

He sighed. "Tomorrow."

-P-

Samantha had a plan. She wanted to take a walk, so she suggested to Mr. Collins he go to Rosings and pitch his sermon idea to the Colonel and Lady Catherine. He thought it was an amazing idea, and left immediately.

Sam waited for twenty minutes to make sure he got there, and judged it safe enough to go on a walk. She grabbed her spencer and bonnet and hustled out.

She went to a little-known path and meandered around for a while, trying not to think about yesterday. Just not-thinking about it made her temper start to boil again. The nerve of that man...

She heard a branch break somewhere ahead and froze. She jumped off the path and hid behind a tree. Colonel Fitzwilliam was walking around the curve in the path, looking determined.

"Come on," Sam muttered, and climbed the tree she was hiding behind. She got all the way up to a sturdy branch and sat there, safely hidden, as he walked beneath her.

Sam leaned against the tree trunk and contemplated existence for a good hour, before judging it safe to climb down and go back to the parsonage.

Charlotte and Maria were there, putting away the tea things. "You missed the Colonel about half an hour ago," Maria informed her brightly.

"Good."

Charlotte eyed the hem of her dress and the state of her boots. "Were you hiding?" she asked.

Sam gave her an innocent look. "Who, me?"

-P-

Colonel Fitzwilliam returned to Rosings after a five-hour walk. "All right," he said heavily, sitting down at his writing desk. "How do I put this all in writing?"

-P-

The next morning, Sam went to the village with Maria.

Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived on the doorstep five minutes later.

"You've just missed Samantha, Colonel," Charlotte told him.

He started to turn red. "I was not, I just-"

"Would you like me to give her a message?" Charlotte asked.

He eyed her speculatively, and decided she could be an ally. "If you could give this to her?" He held the letter out.

She gave him a compassionate smile. "I can do that."

"Thank you, Mrs. Collins." He gave her a stiff bow, and marched away.

Charlotte laid the letter under Sam's pillow for her to find it later.

-P-

Sam found the letter when she went to bed that night. She stared at her name on the outside of the letter for a long time. "No way," she finally decided. "I don't wanna deal with this right now." She put it in the dresser with her clothes.

It stayed there for three more days until Charlotte was helping her pack. She discovered the letter among the chemises, and slipped it into Sam's trunk. She'd have to read it eventually. Hopefully, she wouldn't wait too long.

The next day, Sam hugged Charlotte goodbye, curtsied to Mr. Collins politely, and boarded the post carriage with Sir William and Maria. They were leaving, finally.

Thankfully, the Lucases kept her distracted from her own thoughts as they made the journey back to Hertfordshire and Longbourn.

Sam was welcomed back with joy by the Bennets, and everyone was clamoring for details of Pemberley, the Darcys, and her own travels in Kent. She gave them stories, sketches, and anecdotes, carefully leaving out all mention of Colonel Fitzwilliam. And then it was her turn to listen, as they told her all about the changes in Meryton and Longbourn. Mary was going with the Gardiners to Pemberley, and Kitty and Lydia were still training under their mother's and Jane's tutelage to learn how to run a household. None of the younger girls were being courted, much to Mrs. Bennet's regret.

The next day Sam walked to Netherfield, to see the Bingley's. She was received in the family parlor by a glowing Jane.

"Sam! How lovely to see you!"

Sam hugged her tightly, and leaned back to look at her. "You look amazing," she told Jane honestly. "Marriage really agrees with you, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes, Sam, I'm so happy."

She stayed at Longbourn for another week, spending her time with the three Bennet girls, and sharing piano tips with Mary, and then the Darcy carriage arrived to take her to Pemberley.

"Don't forget to write," she called, as the carriage moved away.

"Bye!" Lydia called, waving until Sam was out of sight.

-P-

The ride to Pemberley was long and quiet, with only Sam's maid Daisy for company. Sam got a lot of reading done. But what was more, she thought a lot about Colonel Fitzwilliam, or, as she called him He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Thought-Of-Ever-Again. She didn't dare cry in the carriage though.

By the time she got to Pemberley, she was delighted to see Lizzy and Georgie, and even hugged Darcy. "I'm glad to be back," she told them.

"How was your visit?" Georgie asked.

"How was Charlotte?" Lizzy demanded.

"How was Rosings?" Darcy asked.

Sam gave them a weak smile. "Fine," she said, and faked a yawn. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Oh of course, you must be exhausted," Georgie said, ushering her upstairs.

Darcy and Lizzy exchanged a glance. "She does not look like someone who is happily in love," Lizzy said worriedly. "I wonder what happened."

"You should ask her," Darcy suggested.

Lizzy gave Sam a half hour to change out of her traveling clothes, and then went upstairs. She knocked gently. "Sam?"

"Come in!" Sam called. She left Daisy to unpack the rest of her things, and joined Lizzy in the hallway. "Charlotte sends her love." She hugged her again. "I'm so glad to be home."

"Was it very difficult?"

Sam shook her head. "I could handle Hunsford. It was Rosings that was the problem."

"Lady Catherine was difficult?" Lizzy asked innocently.

Sam smirked. "You should be really glad she doesn't like you."

Lizzy just shook her head. "Let us go for a walk, and you can tell me all about it."

So Sam told her about Charlotte, and Mr. Collins, and Maria, and Lady Catherine, and said nothing about Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Did you not see Col Fitzwilliam there?" Lizzy asked.

Sam's jaw dropped. "How did you know he was there?"

"We got a letter saying he was going instead of us," Lizzy said, shrugging.

Sam scowled. "And you couldn't have warned me?"

"We didn't think it necessary." Lizzy looked at her worriedly. "What happened between you, Sam?"

She sighed. "I don't know. One minute everything was fine, I mean, just friends since he obviously wasn't interested in me before, but fine, and then..." She told Lizzy the whole miserable story, pacing and waving her hands and tugging at her spencer. "So yeah," she finished, scrubbing at her face to rid it of tears, "that's totally over."

Lizzy gave her a hug. "Sam, Richard is not a fortune hunter. In your heart, you know that."

"Do I?" Sam challenged. "Then why did he run away from me until he knew?"

Lizzy sighed. "Did he explain at all?"

Sam shook her head. "I hid. I couldn't stand the sight of him."

Lizzy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It will all be well," she said encouragingly.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll go visit Longbourn while he comes to visit you guys."

"That is not a solution," Lizzy scolded her.

"I know, I know." She sighed again. "I just... I don't want to speak of it for right now. Can I just, have some time?"

"Of course, dearest." Lizzy kissed her cheek. "Should I send up some hot chocolate and a few of Cook's apple tarts for you before you retire?"

Sam laughed. "That would be just the thing."

When she re-entered her room, Daisy had put all her clothes away, and was tidying the papers that Sam had carted back. "Where do you want these, miss?" Daisy asked.

Sam glanced at the latest renditions of her inventions. "Just there, on the desk. Thank you Daisy."

Daisy put the stack of papers on the desk with all the other stacks of paper. Neither woman noticed the unopened letter in amongst it.

-P-

That night, Lizzy relayed the basics of the information from Sam, to her husband.

Darcy was shocked. "He's a half-wit," he said, shaking his head. "That's all there is to it. His horse kicked him in the head and he lost all his intelligence."

Lizzy frowned. "He must have lost his head, I agree, but to give Sam the impression that he cared only for her money? That was very badly done."

"I shall write to him directly," Darcy decided, wrapping an arm around his wife and kissing her hair.

"Sam wants time right now," Lizzy reminded her husband.

"I'm not going to order him to Pemberley," Darcy replied, rolling his eyes. "He is a grown man and can do as he likes, but I do need to ask him how his visit to our Aunt went."

So Darcy wrote his letter asking for details about Rosings, and only vaguely mentioned that Sam had been at Hunsford and had Richard seen her?

Colonel Fitzwilliam replied telling him all the pertinent facts about Rosings and told him to mind his own business. A hastily added postscript read,

"Sorry Darcy for my abominable temper. I've just been recalled to the War Office and will be in Portugal for the summer on assignment. Expect to be back by the start of the season, heaven help me. Give Georgie and Mrs. Darcy my regards. -RF

Darcy casually mentioned the information at the dinner table. Georgie began to worry over her cousin, Mrs. Darcy looked at him quite sharply, and Sam turned white as a sheet and didn't utter a word.

Later in the sitting room, when Lizzy gave her a worried look, Sam shook her head. "I wanted time," she said, "and now I have it. I just hope that he stays safe." She gave Lizzy a small smile. "He's probably forgotten all about me already. I shall endeavor to do the same. Besides, Jane's coming tomorrow. It's fine."

-P-

Summer with the Bingley's and the Darcy's was wonderful. The cooler Northern summer was perfect for long walks and rides over the estate, day trips to old ruins, picnics in the sun, and, in separation of the sexes, swimming in the lakes and streams. They also traveled to the Peaks for three weeks, and Sam and Georgie did nothing but gape at the scenery and sketch it, trying to capture all the images to take home. Sam also, without anyone noticing, snapped a few pictures with her ever-present phone. The more she settled into this time, the less inclined she was to bring it out and remind people of her strange circumstances.

Sam also, without meaning to, invented The Sound of Music before Rodgers and Hammerstein. She couldn't help it, really. The wild beauty of the mountains made her burst into song and do a little Maria-esque twirl.

Georgie listened to her sign, and leaned on the picnic blanket with a smile. "Where did that song come from?" she asked.

"A musical," Sam replied simply, flopping down on the blanket and sighing happily. "Georgie, you know what you should do?"

"What?"

"You should compose the chords for the song."

"Don't you know them?"

"Nope," she said happily.

So Georgie listened to Sam sing the song and wrote down the chords, and between the two of them they got a solid composition.

They presented it to the family and received wild applause.

-P-


	12. Chapter 12

In October, the Bingley's and the Darcy's headed for town. Their arrival was heralded with great interest, as all of society wanted to meet the new Mrs. Darcy.

The trip to town afforded them a chance to get a new wardrobe, and for the first solid week the men were completely abandoned in favor of the modiste.

Mr. Darcy was not at all happy about the endless parties, soirees, teas, and balls that followed, but he did find Mrs. Darcy in her element to be absolutely fascinating. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.

She would feel his gaze from across the room, turn, and smile at him with such tenderness that anyone who saw the couple sighed at the love match.

Of more interest were Sam and Georgie. Miss Darcy was not yet out, but she accompanied her new sister and friend to more outings, and people were noticing the young heiress. There was already a list of bachelors and mothers waiting for her debut.

And Sam... people didn't know what to make of her. But she was pretty, rich, and clever, and people were flocking to her company. She had great fun chatting with all of them, but none of them were truly interesting. None of them were interested in her, just her looks and her money. She didn't even need Darcy to glare to keep away all the gentlemen with serious intentions.

Once it was understood that she was not particularly looking to be married except for the deepest love and respect, she was much in company with the "perpetual bachelors", men who were not interested in the grasping talons of the ton. Darcy and Bingley had numbered among them only a year ago.

It was the last week of October, and the Granvilles were holding their annual Harvest ball. It was a terrible crush, but Sam was having fun. She and Lady Violet Granville were talking to several young lordlings about the intricacies of dancing the Spanish flamenco, which was a terribly shocking thing to talk about, but nobody minded.

Sam looked up, and met the eye of Colonel Fitzwilliam. He looked shocked to see her, mirroring the shock on her own face. She turned to look at one of the young men who called her attention, and when she looked back he was gone.

She excused herself and went over to Lizzy. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is here," she said. "I just saw him. Did you know he was back?"

Lizzy smiled knowingly. "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I lost him in the crowd."

They went over to Darcy and told him. He looked surprised. "He didn't send word that he was back. I don't think Aunt Eleanor even knows." He gave Lizzy a gentle squeeze of the hand. "We'll see him tomorrow I'll wager."

Sam didn't remember a single thing from the rest of the night. All she could think about was him.

The next morning Sam and Georgie were just barely finished with breakfast when Colonel Fitzwilliam was announced into the music room.

Georgie flew at him gleefully and he hugged her, his eyes never leaving Sam's. For the life of her, she couldn't look away, struck by the intensity of his gaze.

Georgie finally stepped back. "I'll tell them you're here," she said, and exited, closing the door behind her.

The two just looked at each other. "Do you still hate me, Miss Langford?" he asked finally.

She blushed, and tugged at her shawl. "No, not hate, no, I..." Where the Sam Hill was her brain?!

"Then why didn't you send word?" he asked, taking a tentative step forward. "Darcy would've put it in his letters."

"What?" she asked, bewildered. "P.S. Sam doesn't hate you?"

His manner grew stiff. "You didn't read my letter did you."

She gaped at him. "Letter?" Then she remembered, and facepalmed. "Your letter! Oh no- I completely forgot about it... I never read it..." She blushed furiously as she confessed, "I was so angry I put it in the drawer and-" she gasped. "Is it still at Hunsford? No, Charlotte would have sent it to me..." Where was it?

He turned away from her to stare at the piano. "I see," he said flatly.

She stared at him, his shoulders hunched, back bowed, his fist pressed to his mouth, and couldn't bear the sight of him in pain.

"I should go," he said stiffly. "I am sorry, Miss Langford, for causing you so-"

"Wait," she blurted, reaching out to touch his sleeve. "Wait, just, wait." And she bounded out the door and up the stairs to her room. What was in that letter?

She tore her room apart looking for it and finally, finally, found it in the pile of designs that had come with her from Pemberley. She sank to her knees on the plush carpet and opened the seal.

The Colonel's strong neat handwriting filled the page.

"Be not alarmed, madam, at the receipt of this letter. I will not press the request that was so disgusting to you, but I demand you hear me out. No, forgive me, I do not demand, I just ask. Please give me a chance to explain my awful speech."

Sam wiped away a tear that had fallen, and kept reading.

"First things first, dear Samantha, I do love you. I loved you ever since I ran away from you - and that was a cowardly thing to do. I had convinced myself it was simply a tendre, that it was better if I nipped your expectations, and mine, in the bud. I would not dare to marry without being able to provide for my wife. You deserve better than a Colonel's half-pay. So I left, and convinced myself it was only my heart that was suffering. And then at Bingley's wedding, you were twice as beautiful then and I couldn't bear to be near you. You ignored me, as was your right, and I convinced myself you were over me. By March I had nearly convinced myself I was over you, and then there you were in my aunt's drawing room, like a breath of fresh air. And then to learn that you were independently wealthy, that you were still unattached - all my affection for you came flooding back and I saw no impediments to our marriage. I lost my head like a fool, and instead of speaking of love, I spoke to you of money. And now you think me a fortune-hunter and a coward. I beg you to forgive an old soldier who doesn't know how to be charming when his goal is in sight. And my goal, my dearest, is you by my side. Say you forgive me, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that the only thing I need in this world is you. Just you.

Your embarrassed suitor,

R.F."

Sam wept unashamedly into a handkerchief. All these months... she felt like a first-class idiot. And poor Richard, thinking she wouldn't forgive him...

She grabbed the letter and ran back downstairs. The music room was empty. She stopped in her tracks, bewildered. He'd left. Sam almost started crying again. Would he forgive her for her stupidity?

Georgie re-entered the room and frowned at Sam. "Are you well?" she asked kindly.

Sam shook her head. "He's gone."

"Who?"

"Your cousin. He's gone."

The young girl smiled. "He's in the library." She stepped out of the way as Sam bolted from the room and made a beeline to the library.

Darcy was just coming out, and gave Sam a long, measuring look. "Five minutes," he said gently. "I wouldn't want to duel my cousin." He ushered her into the library, and closed the door behind her.

Sam abruptly found herself face to face with an anxious looking Colonel Fitzwilliam. She held the letter out. "I read it," she said weakly.

"And?" he asked, standing at parade rest, his hands clenched so tightly together his knuckles were white.

"And I'm sorry I didn't let you explain," Sam said, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry I lost your letter, but I was trying so hard not to think of you and how hurt I was..." She shook her head, unable to find words as tears started to fill her eyes.

He took a step closer. "Can you forgive me for being a blind fool?" he asked quietly.

She gave him a little crooked grin. "Only if you forgive me for being a stubborn fool."

"Deal," he said instantly.

They smiled at each other, and Sam's heart began to float a little bit.

He took a step closer, near enough to reach out and touch her. "Dare I ask if I have any hope?" he asked, his countenance incredibly earnest. "You haven't fallen in love with one of your many admirers?"

Sam smiled. "Those guys at the ball? The only reason they like me is because I am not on the prowl for them." She blushed and glanced at her feet. "You have hope, sir."

He beamed, and reached for her hand. "May I ask-"

"No," she interrupted, making his face fall. She might, might, be in love but she was still a rational being. "No, don't ask me anything yet." She squeezed his hand. "You and I have spent so much time trying to convince ourselves that the other wasn't a suitable prospect, and I've just now realized you do feel for me after all. Can we, can't we get to know each other first, properly? And in a few weeks, once we've both processed a little, you can ask-" she bit her lip, "you can ask whatever you want to ask me. Will that suit?"

He bowed over her hand, and kissed it. "I bow to your superior wisdom," he said, still beaming. "May I call on you tomorrow?"

She blushed. "You may."

He reluctantly released her hand. "Thank you, Miss Langford." He opened the door to the library and went out, almost running into Darcy. "See you tomorrow old man!" the Colonel said cheerfully.

Sam left the library and fairly floated to the drawing room, all smiles.

The Darcy's waited patiently for all of twenty seconds before a near-frantic Georgie pounced on Sam. "Tell us! Tell us the news! Are you engaged?"

Sam hugged her tightly and laughed. "Not at all."

Their smiles dropped. "Why not?" Darcy demanded. "What has he done now!"

"Exactly as I asked him to," Sam admitted. "We are going to get to know each other properly, first. After all, we've only been acquainted three months out of a year and a half, and most of that was chaperoning you two."

Darcy and Lizzy shared a look, and nodded. "Good decision," Darcy said. "I would not see either of you in an unequal marriage."

Sam blushed. "Thank you." She hadn't blushed this much since her first crush in middle school.

-P-

"Samantha, stop fidgeting or I shall be forced to sit on you," Lizzy threatened, the next morning.

Sam huffed and paced another quick circle. "I can't help it. I'm nervous. What if I say something stupid? What if I bring up something completely unsuitable? What if-"

Before Lizzy could hide her smirk, the butler entered and announced, "Lord Kearning, to see you."

Sam stifled a groan. Lord Kearning was one man who couldn't take a hint. He was convinced that a no-nonsense American heiress was just what he needed to forward his politics, but he was so boring. If he had anything other than a monotone and an unfortunate love of gaudy monocles, he might have been a good prospect, but now with Colonel Fitzwilliam's portending visit...

"Good morning, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Langford," Lord Kearning said, bowing.

They both curtsied. "Good morning, sir," Mrs. Darcy said, and offered him a seat in a single chair. "How is your mother?"

He directed all his answers to Sam, and she replied to him politely and concisely, but with no interest whatsoever. He still didn't leave. Apparently, the monocle wasn't good for seeing past the end of his nose.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," the butler announced.

Sam rose to her feet eagerly.

The Colonel entered the room, bowed to Mrs. Darcy, and took a step forward. "Miss Langford," he uttered.

She held out a hand. "Colonel," she said, curtsying, and trying to ignore the rising blush on her cheeks.

He took her hand, and kissed it gently as he bowed. "It is a pleasure to see you this morning," he said, completely ignoring the surprised Lord Kearning.

"You also," Sam said, smiling at him. "Would you care for some tea?"

"I would, thank you."

Lord Kearning suddenly discovered something incredibly important which he had to go do at his club, and excused himself. Chagrined, he acknowledged to himself that he was firmly out of the running for Miss Langford's hand.

Mrs. Darcy got her enjoyment for the next half hour watching Sam and her suitor make mooncalf eyes at each other and talk about... Napoleon's battle strategies?

Then Mrs. Metcalfe and Mrs. Thornton came by, and Sam unwillingly dragged herself towards the conversation to support Mrs. Darcy against the matrons of the ton. Colonel Fitzwilliam parked himself by the mantel and indulged himself in gazing at the love of his life. She blushed becomingly, but continued to ignore him in favor of necessary gossip.

The Colonel stayed for dinner. The Darcy's, after one course, gave up trying to engage either Sam or the Colonel in conversation, and let them debate with each other across the table about... treehouses?

In the music room after dinner, Georgie obliged them with a song, and afterwards joined her brother and sister on the sofa. Sam and the Colonel were arguing about steel manufacturing. "Damascus," Sam was saying. "Two hundred years in the future, it's still gonna be Damascus steel." She knew this, but the pigheaded Colonel was convinced England was going to take the lead.

Georgie frowned. "Are they going to argue every time they speak?"

Lizzy smiled at her husband. "It does seem to be an effective way to get to know your future spouse," she mentioned.

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. "Indeed."

Georgie rolled her eyes and glanced discreetly back at Sam and Richard. They were still discussing steel.

-P-

The next day, Colonel Fitzwilliam showed up at the Darcy townhouse with a smart little open carriage, and offered to take the ladies to Hyde Park during the "unfashionable" hour to look at the ducks. They all accepted eagerly, and went to get their coats.

Sam was the first one back in the foyer.

"Miss Langford," the Colonel said, stepping closer to her. He conjured a small flower from his sleeve, presenting it to her with a bow.

She took the little autumn crocus with a smile and a blush. "Where did you find a wildflower in London?" she asked, tucking the flower into the buttonhole of her spencer.

"My mother's garden," he said, and added in a stage whisper, "don't tell her. She guards it very jealously."

Sam laughed. "Let us hope we don't encounter Lady Matlock then," she teased. She sobered with a sudden thought. "Colonel, I..."

He frowned. "What is it, dearest?"

She fidgeted with her sleeve. "Have you told your family, about me? Will they accept me as your choice?" She glanced up at him. "You could do a lot better than me, never mind the money."

He reached for her hand, and kissed it reassuringly. "My mother suspected my partiality for you last year, and I told them yesterday that I was courting you."

"And?"

"My mother is overjoyed to see me settling down. My father is disappointed that I haven't picked an 'English rose', but he could see that I was serious. He's read your book, and once I told him it was you, he was reconciled. I think he wants you to make me run for Parliament."

Sam grimaced. "How about no."

He chuckled. "That's what I told him. After this month, I am done with government service in all forms."

She stared at him. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well. Don't tell anyone, but, I'm retiring from the military."

"You are?"

He nodded. "The trip to Portugal was my last assignment. After this month, I will be the Honorable Richard Fitzwilliam, Esquire." He gave her a hopeful grin. "And once I get married, the Meadowfaire estate is mine."

"Meadowfaire?" Sam echoed.

"The little estate off Matlock, that's been in trust for the second son for the last two generations," he explained. "Father is happy to get it off his hands." His smile gentled. "You'll love it. It's small, but it has character."

She blushed. "I'd like to see it."

Before he could say anything, Lizzy and Georgie came back, and they all piled into the carriage. Somehow, not at all by design thank you Georgiana, Sam ended up sitting next to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Hyde Park was mostly full of children and their nurses, desperate to get in the last outings before winter set in. The ponds were full of ducks, desperate to rest before moving on south.

Neither Sam nor Fitzwilliam noticed a thing, both too highly aware of the other's close presence. If this is what it's like being in love, it's a miracle any of us survive it, Sam thought, repressing the desire to lean into his side. It was kind of cold...

The colonel, for his part, was finding it hard not to wrap an arm around her.

They stopped at Gunter's for hot chocolate and cookies, "Okay, okay, biscuits, whatever Lizzy," and Georgie asked to stop by the music store. "Wait. One more cookie for the road."

Glare.

"Don't give me that look. A biscuit is a flaky bun you eat with gravy, possibly with fried chicken. This is a cookie. You will never convince me otherwise."

"There's something to be said for a woman who stands her ground," Fitzwilliam said, smirking.

Sam gave him a small curtsey and a smile. "Thank you, sir."

-P-

Two days later, the Darcy's and the Fitzwilliam's attended the theater together. Everyone noticed the Colonel and Miss Langford together, and the murmurs started.

-P-


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Last chapter.**

It was two blissfully-courting weeks later at a small dinner party that Colonel Fitzwilliam announced his resignation from the army. Everyone gave him their congratulations for a successful career, and wishes for a successful future.

As everyone was leaving, Fitzwilliam approached Sam. "Miss Langford," he said quietly.

She smiled. "Mr. Fitzwilliam?" she asked, using his new civilian title.

"Will you do me the honor of a private interview tomorrow morning?" he asked.

She blushed, and her heart soared. "It would be my honor."

They locked eyes, and he bowed. "Thank you, Miss Langford."

"Good night," she said softly.

He said his goodbyes to his cousins, and left with the Matlock carriage.

Sam was still standing there, stunned and incredibly nervous.

"Sam?" Lizzy asked knowingly.

"Tomorrow morning," Sam replied, in a daze. "How am I supposed to sleep now!?"

Georgie laughed and tugged her up the stairs. "I'll entertain you," she suggested. "We can have a sleepover."

"Don't stay up too late," Lizzy cautioned. "You don't want to have dark circles for tomorrow."

Sam let out a moan. "I'm gonna look like a zombie!" she wailed as Georgie dragged her up the stairs.

"Ah, young love," Darcy said, smirking. He put an arm around Lizzy's waist. "Remember when we were that ridiculous?"

"Us, ridiculous?" Lizzy scoffed. "Not at all. Both of us were stoic and taciturn, unwilling to act unless it could be recorded for posterity."

He tugged her close and stole a kiss. "I'm afraid your memory is faulty, my dear."

"Is it?"

-P-

Somehow, Sam did manage to sleep, and woke up with a sense of anticipation. By the end of today, if all went well, she would be engaged to be married... how was this her life? Wait. How was this her life? She was from the future... how was she going to explain it to him? Would he still want her after she told him? She started to panic, but before she could work herself up too much Lizzy came to help her get dressed for the day.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Terribly," Sam admitted. "And, what am I going to do about, you know?" She gestured to the clock meaningfully. "When I'm from? Being a houseguest is one thing, but actually marrying someone from a different time? What if there's rules about it? What if he doesn't believe me? What if-"

Lizzy patted her hand. "The Colonel is a reasonable man, and if he loves you, he will believe you. As he does love you, anyone with eyes could see it, you will be fine."

"But what if he doesn't?"

Lizzy gave her a hug. "Where is that 21st century hoyden, Sam?" she chided. "If he doesn't love you enough to accept the marvels of time travel and by extension your unique self, then you are better off without him, as much as it pains me to say it."

Sam nodded slowly. "You're right. Pining is so last century."

They shared a giggle, and went downstairs. Sam was ready to face her suitor, no matter what the outcome.

It was in this battlefield mindset that Fitzwilliam found his love. "Good morning, Miss Langford," he said, bowing.

She curtsied, and found her hands shaking. She pressed them together. "Good morning," she replied. "Tea?"

"Thank you."

She made him a cup of tea, (one sugar, no milk, splash of lemon), and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed as she passed the cup, and she retreated hastily to the other end of the settee. "So," she said.

"Yes," he said, "so." He chuckled. "I seem to have shot myself in the foot, asking for a specific interview."

She laughed. "Not much of a strategist now you've given up your commission, are you?" she teased.

He knelt in front her. "Not really, no." He grasped her hand with both of his. "My dearest Samantha, when you are near, all my pretty speeches fly straight out of my head. I had a speech planned and everything, but the only thing I can focus on is you. I love you. Will you marry me?"

She squeezed his hands, and resisted the urge to laugh. "Yes, yes I will. I love you, too. Never mind the pretty speeches."

He kissed her hands reverently. "I love you," he said again.

She traced the movements of his hands with her fingers, her heart fluttering nervously. "First, I, need to tell you something."

"Of course dear heart. What is it?" He moved to sit next to her on the sofa, their hands still clasped together.

"I'm from America," she said.

He chuckled. "Yes, I know that."

"America, two hundred years in the future," she continued. "I was born in 1998."

He stared at her. "What?"

Slowly, she explained everything to him. The Bennets, her education in the ways of this time, her cell phone. She paced, and told him the story of the shower patent and the engineering book, and he sat on the couch and stared at the little phone in his hands, scrolling through the camera roll.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," she said, "but I had to be sure of your regard for me, and, before today there was no chance to explain it all, and-"

"You're from the future," he interrupted, still staring at the pictures.

"Yes."

"And you're not going back?"

"No. I don't think so. There's no way for me to travel, no. No, I'm staying here."

He looked up at her. "Then everything is fine. Wonderful, even."

She stopped pacing and stared at him. "Really?"

He stood up and handed her the phone. "This, is just another part of who you are. I am honored that you trusted me enough to tell me, and I am incredibly pleased that the woman I love, is indeed a very, very special person." He touched her cheek lightly. "It wouldn't matter to me, Samantha, if you were from the past, or the future, or another world entirely. I love you."

She met his eyes, and saw the truth there. She smiled at him. "I love you, Richard."

He bent his head to kiss her. "Sam..." he murmured.

They were thus agreeably engaged, when a discreet, "ahem, ahem, oh dear the handle seems to be sticking, we must get that looked at," at the door, alerted them. Fitzwilliam withdrew to the mantel, and Sam checked her hair.

The door opened, and a cautious Mr. and Mrs. Darcy poked their heads in. "Good morning, Richard," Darcy said cordially, giving him an appraising glance.

Fitzwilliam beamed at him. "Cousin, you may congratulate me. I am the happiest of men!"

The cousins shook hands and pounded each other on the back, and Lizzy flew to Sam. "You're engaged," Lizzy said eagerly.

Sam nodded, laughing. "I am."

"I'm so happy for you, Sam." She hugged her. "How did it go?"

"He loves me. He didn't care about the time travel."

"I told you so."

Georgie came rushing in, and read the truth on their faces. "Oh Richard!" she squealed, hugging him, and then hugging Sam. "Sam! We will be cousins! Oh, it's so exciting!" She grabbed Sam's hand. "Where's your ring?"

Fitzwilliam groaned and slapped his forehead. "The ring! I completely forgot." He dug a small box out of his pocket. "Georgie, sweet, budge over." He replaced Georgie's hand with his own, and slid a gold and silver-entwined ring with a single sapphire onto Sam's finger. "It was my grandmother's," he explained.

Sam smiled at him. "I love it."

Darcy smiled at them both, and patted his cousin on the arm. "It's a miracle you managed to make it to Colonel before you retired, cuz, if you're always this forgetful."

"Only when I'm in love," Fitzwilliam replied sappily.

Sam laughed and kissed his cheek. "Good thing you're marrying me. I have excellent organizational skills."

"When it's not your desk," Lizzy teased.

With much laughter and teasing, the quintet headed to the music room for some celebratory champagne and music.

That evening, the Darcy's hosted an engagement dinner and invited the Matlocks, the Bingleys, and the Gardiners. Everyone was supremely happy about the match, and the Earl and Countess welcomed Sam to the family with hugs, and all was right in the world. Two hundred years in the past, Samantha Langford found her place in the world.

-P-

The wedding took place six weeks later at the Pemberley chapel. Mr. Bennet gave the bride away, and everyone agreed she had never looked more beautiful than when she was smiling at her husband.

Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam went to Scotland for a honeymoon trip, and then settled at Meadowfaire. It was a small estate, pulling in three thousand a year, but with those three thousand, his pension, and Sam's career, the Fitzwilliam's could live in the style that they were accustomed to.

The household at Meadowfaire quickly got used to seeing their new Master and Mistress argue, debate, discuss, and analyze every topic under the sun, and realized that was their way of flirting. They also got used to the Mistress' eccentric habits such as: climbing trees, inventing things, and educating anyone and everyone she could get her hands on. A great many changes came to Meadowfaire, but since they included hot running water, an excellent plumbing system, and a village school for the tenants, nobody minded. And Sam did what she swore she never would: manage a houseful of servants and tenants, and social calendars.

-P-

A year later, the Darcy's, Bingley's, and Fitzwilliam's were gathered at Pemberley for the birth of the Darcy heir, James Bennet Darcy. He was an adorable, chubby baby, and everyone was in love with him. His father was beaming with pride, and only reluctantly handed him off to other people to cuddle.

It was Sam's turn to hold the baby, and she ran her fingers over his soft skin. "You're gonna be so spoiled, kiddo," she murmured. She grinned when the baby twitched under her fingers. "Man, I'm gonna sing you all the Disney songs."

"Disney?" Darcy asked.

She smiled at him. "The songs of my childhood. I think we'll leave out High School Musical though."

"Is that the one you were singing the other day?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"No, that was from Frozen."

"Frozen?"

"Yes. That was the last Disney movie I watched before I came here. I missed the new Beauty and the Beast by a year. It will be marvelous, I could tell by the trailers."

Everyone chuckled. Except Bingley. He looked confused. "Movies?" he asked.

They all shared a glance. "You didn't tell him?" Lizzy asked Jane, starting to laugh.

"No, I, it never came up. Why would it?"

"Tell me what?" Bingley demanded.

Fitzwilliam huffed. "Samantha is from the future. But never mind that. We were discussing the heir to Pemberley."

"Wait, what?"

They explained it to him, and Sam demonstrated the phone camera by taking a picture of baby Darcy with his parents.

"Oh. Well that's jolly good. No wonder you're so educated." Bingley smiled, and that was that.

-P-

It was ten years later that the strangers arrived. Sam was with her husband and her children in the rose garden, when two strangers walked towards them, from the trees.

"Samantha Langford?" the man asked. He was wearing combat gear, and carried a tablet. His partner, a woman, was similarly dressed.

Richard stood up and moved their son, Henry, and their daughter, Elizabeth, to Samantha's side. "How did you get into the private gardens?" he demanded.

"We're looking for Samantha Langford," he said.

Sam had not lost any of her straightforwardness in the last ten years. She stood up and stepped forward. "That's me," she said. "Who are you? When are you from?"

"We're from the year 2035," the man said. "It took us a while to track you down."

"It's been twelve years," Sam replied. "How did I end up here in the first place?"

"A backwash from one of our experiments," the man said.

The woman pointed to the necklace. "You're wearing one of the control crystals from the puddle-jumper," she said. "It activated when the rest of the machine did."

Sam's hand went to the pendant around her neck. "How-"

"We don't have time to explain everything, and it would take a lifetime for you to understand it," the man interrupted. "The thing is, do you want to go back to 2016? We could arrange it for you."

Sam glanced back at her family and shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm very content here." She gave them a small grin. "Thank you though, for explaining it to me."

They nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, one last thing," the woman said. "Make sure that your phone and your necklace go into a trust, for Dr. Cassandra Frasier, care of the US government. She'll take care of them."

Sam nodded slowly. "I will."

"Thank you." The man checked his tablet. "We've got to get back to the future. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Sam stepped back to take Richard's hand, and they watched the two strangers walk into the trees and fade out of sight.

"So," he said quietly, "now you know."

She looked down at the pendant. "Yes, but, how does that even work?"

"Sam, is that really...?"

She smiled at him. "You don't want me to investigate the secrets of the universe, dearest?"

He kissed her cheek. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

She knelt to hug little Beth. "My strengths are mechanical engineering and running estates," she said, pressing a kiss to the little girl's hair. "I think we'll leave it at that."

"Don't forget motherhood," Richard said, sitting down on the grass next to her. "I think that's your best skill yet."

She grinned. Perfect timing. "Is it?" she asked. "Do you think maybe one more trial run, to become a true proficient?"

"Samantha, what-" He stared at her, and broke into a grin. "Truly?"

She smiled and nodded. "Truly."

He laughed in delight and pulled her close. "My love," he said, kissing her gently.

"Eww," Henry and Beth chorused, wrinkling their noses.

Sam reached out to hug them. "How would you like a new brother or sister?" she asked. "A little brother to muddy your dresses, or a little sister to steal your ribbons?"

The children, having experienced all of that with their Darcy and Bingley cousins, thought it sounded excellent.

The last little Fitzwilliam child was named Katie, vaguely after Samantha's aunt, who had accidentally made it possible for Samantha to go down in history as the inventor of the shower, and one of the earliest pioneers of women's education.

Samantha never found reason to doubt that her Colonel loved her very much indeed.

-FIN-


End file.
